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Swallowed ectoplasm

Expelled furor

Past the pictures with removed faces

Past the arrays of pillows made of flowers

Brandishing twigs and uttering curses

Triggering a superimposed dirge

As if the graves have opened and the flowers burned

Forced to seek a brief moment of tranquility

In a temporary refuge

Black mist emanates

Filling the rooms

Choking every cry

with pillows soaked with blood

Klečat na zemji

Survat se u dubine

Ležat u grobu

Klečat u paklu