Withdoom

Look at my scorn,
The Foe,
Inward grey scars,
Where blood and glory,
Thou knowest, begun.
Look at the source,
At blesfull vaince
Thy question.
Why neither life, nor death, nor darkness
Deep be sooner, ere
Imperishable omniwill, non-coming,
Non is noun,
Nihil.


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