

Nazrathgratr IXDescending pon the coruscating spires of man A vortex of energies from hostile lands However, there still doth stand One manNazrathgratr IX
Braving burning skies
With nothing but time
Constructing pathways with darkest magic Wounded and bleeding, but making his stand Fighting for no cause, not blood, nor soil, Delusions of friends, nor grandeur at end
It begins! The dance, flirting with thatchwork Flailing like a broken marionette Lacerating sinew and bone alike Darting through shadows, harbinger of death
Ensorcelled by mighty runic warding
--
Beauty is as Beauty does; hold your head high, you are beautiful. Art Of Rain...
If my dearest Chaos is King, then that indeed Makes Queen of me, for thus the King is mine.
PHIL :: BLACK RAVEN DESIGN
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