Novembers Doom. Of Sculptured Ivy And Stone Flowers. All The Beauty Twice Again. Novembers Doom. Скульптурних плюща і кам'яного Квіти. Всі краси ще двічі.
...A moonlit breeze softly flows past the ancient night. Always calling out to the saints who hear nothing. Never to see the royality of age, and the beauty
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