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Mgła( Mgla )
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Groza IV
The valley of judg'ment. The forest of olde. Where'd come the dread presence, so knowne afore?
Thou, who hath risen the oracle of lyes, Hast thou witnes'd a shepherd feed on his flocke?
The virtues of loss. The hymnes of decay. Dost thou have faith now, o dearest friend?
And dost thou now doubt Truth to be a liar, Or dost thou doubt Lie in thy promythian rage? Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Whence came thine yoke of grande tradition, Hast thou not seen the structure clear?
A quenchlesse fire, a nest of trembling feare. A path that leads to perill, sorrow and despaire.
Alas, 'tis the world without end.
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