Spell against the vaporizing cold

I will gain your immersion through a letter,

Invocated none other by the elixir of my dewdrops.

Hands quivering with words so tender,

Sing a song, to my gods, only to be unseen by whole lots.

And what is a priest in endless pain?

Sweet incantation their god bloomed to disdain,

Like of a crude river’s ignorant flow,

To display its enormous potency even at the Flower’s stake.

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muskog's profile picture

look up the term 'purple prose'

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