Haunt of Angels.

The night is haunted with a sense the demons lend to smile, upon event to recommend the words upon their guile. Upon their sentence set by state, their verses have inquired, upon the universe they’re met, by thoughts that they’ve conspired. By force in hardened strength we sight in honour as intent, to rise above the cards we’ve read and played as they are sent. Beyond all caution hands of fate, are flown before desire in flight above the winds of hate by angels who inspire.

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