Owlwood
Cult of Luna

Fear roams throughout this landnWhere no man dare treadnDark shapes protect the one, not bound by laws of fleshnDays of isolationnRegret dominatesnUnwilling to face what awaits outsidenWhen lights are gone, woodland comes alivenFire is born into their eyesnGhost of this agenWhat the creek takenFrom a wretched state rose the willing


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