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With his coming are the dread fires born again.The hills burn and the land turns sere.The tides of men run out,and the hours dwindle.The wall is pierced, and the veil of parting raised.Storms rumble beyond the horizone, and the fires of heaven purge the earth.There is no salvation without destruction, no hope thise side of death.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

Going under

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