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Bestowed Upon Me a CurseBestowed upon me, a curse, yes.
One told of pure blood and a simple white dress.
It is my fault, yes indeed, for I am the one who made her soul bleed.
I sliced and drove my knife in her skin, for it was her fault she begged for one night of sin.
We did not wed for that sort of game, we wed for our love and money, plus fame.
Alas, I'll never regret using that knife, for she was a succubus, not my wife.
FarewellCrackle, crackle, watch my bones break.
Watch my eyes melt, and heart slowly shake.
See my skin peel from my face, for now begins the endless race.
The race with death, the one I won't win.
For I am too weak, too brittle and thin.
Say farewell for me, to no one I ask.
Except for the one behind the mask.
Such heartless creatures, who learn to lie.
They do not care if you happen to die.
Only focusing on what they like best, they either forget or shun the rest.
They disgust us, they do, with their pathetic souls.
As a matter of fact their souls have left, and all that remains is a simple brain.
A brain that allows them to simply stain.
Stain the planets who were deemed sane.
Alas, the race shall hopefully fall, for nothing lasts forever, nothing at all.
The Weary SoulsThe Weary Souls
The weary souls, the wretched souls, listen to them speak.
The tales they tell of far and beyond, all stories told to keep.
Hear their whispers of forgotten times, some old and beyond, some new.
Mentioned first, never mentioned last, for they always speak of you.
UnknownCreaking boards, cackling cages, cold-dark waters, and unseen pages.
One simple item binds them all, will you see it or will you fall?
'Tis something cold and harsh like ice, but also nimble and twisted thrice.
Lost within a forgotten home, search for the riddle you consider your own.
And once you find what you honestly need, you'll be able to thoroughly know how to succeed.
Fallen You Are, Our Sister.Fallen you are, our sister.
Your golden hair whips and slashes your rotting rosy skin, wishing to have life.
You have betrayed us, both your tainted soul and lustful body.
Dear sister, you have disappointed us in your existence.
We hoped for a better sibling to bless the cursed family, but alas another vile succubus was born.
Oh my dear, we hope you receive all the guilt and suffering you gave us.
All the nights of endless abuse and torture you forced upon your victims and your siblings you will pay for dearly.
Our suffering caused your laughter, how terrifying it was to hear your screeches and howls.
And now dear sister, it is we who will simply laugh at your agony, and hope to never see you again.
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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