Shades of the Cimmerian 

Out of all the things she's lost she lose the control of the night the most. She was rid of her sight that catches all the obsidian imaginations that refuse to have mercy on her ebony eyes. The shades as ravens sneak up on her from the places she's never been. They lied, they concealed, [...]

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An Ode to her juvenilia 

I saw them not, with which her youth is fed but, I could feel all vigorous things purely bred. Thoughts of eminent deeds they were, some of grating discord that slur. Within her, till there came upon her mind an innermost chord once had she twined. To yield to the impetus of her youth, basking [...]