speaking a language, in tongues befitting a dark dagger-like crown, with a purity hidden deep within auric angelite surrounding anaemic complexions with truths damned-well-tolds, a peeking into the gloom of their dastardly hidden rooms, roam, oh how I will roam in lairs of darkness, invitations extending to no luminescent process, luminal passageways to their hearts, navigation with most careful of prowess.
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