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A woeful omen of sorrowful dreams of shapeless entities,
Created by the emanations of perceived grand and majestic illusions,
An insanity, an ecstasy as I read the forbidden knowledge,
From the records of darkness,
Floating cryptic traces of the serpentine symbols I spoke,
Travel through the cold black mist, that comes out every night,
And every night the mark of evil burns through the mist,
Elegantly like black light should.
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They fear of all that is mysterious and hidden,
Ignorant of what evil is at work,
Veiled by spells, sinister, crafted with malice,
As secret enchantments of our craft bloom,
Like death and decay in the graveyard sown,
Eyes lose sight of the unholy throne,
Held beyond the grasp of wisdom,
Like a shadowy menace creeps in the depths of darkness,
The murky mist shall forever obscure,
No light will ever penetrate the impenetrable blackness,
Of the throne enshrouded in veils of secrecy,
As secret enchantments of our craft bloom,
Like death and decay in the graveyard sown,
Eyes lose sight of the unholy throne,
Held beyond the grasp of wisdom.
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Ages had come to pass since the great malevolence of the witches and warlocks,
Of ancient times, they had cast upon the world, spells of darkness,
Only runes of the great sorcerers survived in the age of light,
Cryptic traces of the evil they left behind with their magic,
Now the time has come to search once more for their wisdom,
In a time that hopelessness reigns,
Only greatness is dreamt in the dreams,
And in the words spoken in the clandestine masses held in the shadows of night,
An aura of obscurity ascends from the abyss,
Where the lost souls are found, vanquished by the long ago spells,
Cast upon the world,
Soon, we shall see a return, of doom, of fire and plagues,
Soon, they shall return, the ones of the abyss…
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