Where the Wolves Come to Die

Sylosis

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Far from the reaches
Of the scythe
Bone turns to ash and reignites
An ember within a coffin
Of emptiness
Sinks into the ground

From the open mouth of the river
To the deep heart of winter
A severed cord from the heart
To the head
Where men fear to tread

Hidden from the world
For all to hide
Where the wolves come to die

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