The chilling call, as night approaches, wrapping you in the watery abyss, ensnared, you long for the treasure of freedom, but all that awaits is a murky grave. Below the blue, where darkness shrouds her deepest secrets, the fire whispers, dwelling on death. There are no heroes in the empty, echoing emptiness, only the lost, lamenting their fate. | | | | You can also reply to this email to leave a comment. | | | | |
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