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To Roam The Endless Plains
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I am now the raging fiend Riding the wings of a frozen wind… For the horizon beckons me forth. Wanderer – without perception Wanderer – without direction Is it my fate, to roam the endless plains? A dead world blazes behind A dead world burns in my mind And the flesh with it… A spirit of the steppe I became ethereal I perpetuate digression And the illusion Of ascension… In circles dimmer and dimmer… To find, one must know what to search…
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