The Grave Beyond The Tracks

oh, you trepid wanderer, leaves will guide your path, below your feet, they’ll squander to clothe the aftermath. may weary bones be broken, in lieu of all the stones; the demons now awoken, and ivy overgrown. each footstep on your travels, is marked in anxious haste, the clearest hopes of lavish, released with final grace. the racing beats weigh heavy, like chains upon the tracks; and with a reverent howling, you’ll rest in peace – at last.

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