Forgotten Ground Regained
Cthulhu Eldritch Horror Final Form
Why do I clasp whisper,whetting hopes on soapfilm?My remorse progs person-proof, out of a doubtfulensorcelment’s censussimply her words murder,yet now, most i nest innearly empty eyriewith a wing-brought brightness:brush of her cheek, shrieking.
Copyright © Michael Helsem, 1987
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