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LEVIATHIN H.T 228
clack clack clack
The black pit of night fades in following you closely
clack clack clack
Through narrow valleys and sloped roads by a recognizable tell tale sound it makes
clack clack. Whoosh
now why did you turn around?. My shape means less than the air you breath. Smog is as trippy as the breadth of night.
I am going to walk with you into earth
and all its' quiet until the night ceases
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