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Withered winds

Blowing from the south

A forgotten omen

Blackened conception

Creature of filth

Birthed this night

Upon the earth they stand

Wretched and sinful

They will know only pain

Upon the earth they shall fall

Calling shadows closer

The slow slithering

The yoke of calamity

Torn and enabling

Below the ground

There are things that yearn

Lower clouds

The fog of the underworld

Branches dead

Rotten through centuries

Bubbling and screaming

Spewed forth

The plague of knowing

Created in madness