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Marsh

Like a thief in the heather, the infection comes sneaking
The liquid of rotting fruits
Echo of it smells
Only a forgotten memory
Buried in my colourless within
 
I am many beasts
The sky lies buried here
Downwards
 
No shelter from the rain
Stand stoic and watch the ocean rise
A living hell
Til death takes the lead and liberates
 
Praise the devil blessed be
He seduces your daughters
 
Noors
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