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That is not dead
which can eternal lie
yet with strage aeons
even death may lie
(H.P. Lovecraft)
I bewail my destiny
a foible of mine
but her voice tortures my mind
I yearn for her bosom
I fear her sway
my eternal blemish
is her embrace
She whispers: chose a realm -
these two are the preferred ones:
Hell - where your soul reduces to ashes
Heaven - where you'll be drowned
