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We are men, but we sleep in deep holes dug in the ground, we nourish ourselves with what we can. I am beginning to glimpse the first rosy glows; will I have time to fill my sight with them? The morning cold makes my eyes weep, but I can distinguish the warm vapor of my breath, and I am moved; I am no longer afraid.
We are men, but we sleep in deep holes dug in the ground, we nourish ourselves with what we can.
I am beginning to glimpse the first rosy glows; will I have time to fill my sight with them? The morning cold makes my eyes weep, but I can distinguish the warm vapor of my breath, and I am moved; I am no longer afraid.
Dive into Roly Porter's Kistvaen and experience a haunting journey through sound and emotion. Listen now and feel the dark beauty unfold.
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