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Crimson Peak

Creaks and groans Scare my old bones. Shatters and clatters, And nothing else matters. Trickling blackness beams Or so it seems; What eerie bleak noises From dead old machinery Of winter’s sad choices In dripping crimson scenery. Deep down secret cellars The past will...
Winter

Winter

Storm wraiths cry, the night creeps in; Borders between worlds grow thin. Light of the sun shines soft and weak, Thoughts drift lost in grey clouds bleak. Bereft of scent, air crisp and sharp; Melodies trickle from heathen harp. A cloak of silence heals weary lands...