At The Throne Of Judgment discarnate by design

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For every casket contrived, there was a life prepared for it's abode, but now the ground holds the living...how shall this work?*
In the ground, beneath the soil, her feral will to live exceeds her.
As she realizes, in the appalling pastime, she was nothing but a pawn...
A simple murmur amidst the dawn.
The dawn of being...a time for believing.
Oh, how the night reminds me of my shadowed thought...my malicious plot unveiling to me what redemption I had previously lost.
For every casket contrived, there was a life prepared for it's abode, but now the ground holds the living...how shall this work?
A ghost she becomes, without a home.
She is bodiless and doomed.
In the ground, beneath the soil, her feral will to live exceeds her.
As she realizes in this appalling pastime, she was nothing but a pawn...
Remember me, twisted lady?
I hope you regret everything insincere.
As I hammer, try to cohere...your indifference is my motive to make you suffer.
I hope you enjoy this velvet cover...you'll die just like all the others.
A simple murmur amidst the dawn.
The dawn of being...a time for believing.
Oh, how the night reminds me of my shadowed thought...my malicious plot unveiling to me what redemption I had previously lost.

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