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Emancipation

de Ihsahn

The open air
atop this mountain
welcomes my hungered voice

yet - in the echoes
of my indulgence
I hear a calling from below

silent cries
to my solitude profound
in too deep
there is no return
for the soul unbound
in too deep

I draw circles
sacred boundaries
around my desolate temple

blood is spilt
and thorns grow
on the path to liberty

eternally
in pain and rapture

I was summoned
and I was forced
yet - I willed it so

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