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I was entering a void of no-nature
Of forests deserted by live creatures
Which inspired the sermon of no preacher
In this wasteland of ghosts a portraiture
When I encountered these monsters
Among lakes of firey mist
Some blood emerged from my wrists
And made of my cries a loud concert
I'd been doomed by the kiss
Of the children of the inert
Which with beauty threat no danger
'Til one can't fight any longer