Silence Of Chloroform

In our dark place of silence, where ravens don't dare, she calls me.   Calls me to the window, of eternal moors and spirits,   whispering with a face of no name.   In gothic shades of pale, and midnight blue, the moon looks down on her loveliness. In the silence of our Chloroform, laying down to sleep in our tureen, waiting for life to begin. In closed-caption of lullabies, where

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