Raising another tower
Crumbling in the shadow
Of the forming idea
Too tired for pride
Crumbling in the shadow
Of the forming idea
Too tired for pride
A thunderous voice
In cold, wordless tongues
Resonate deep
In the heart of the night
The bittersweet song
Of a poets lament
That even his best
Are but feeble translations
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Ámr
Arktis.
Das Seelenbrechen
Eremita
After
AngL