Old grievances; ancient dialects; the past...
Squeeze their boney fingers so to grip hold lorn reason;
While time eternal, paces short for a miscast
Eye, of an angry failing mind, imbued with treason;
Intended for one final act of insanity that will at last,
Bring the whole of the village into a darken season;
Where evil beasts, within each clan,
Scream with dithyrambic promise: “Death - rather than!”
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