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Work Search tip: arthur merlin words>1000 sort:hits
I beg for haven: Prisons, let open your gates—A refugee from Belief seeks a cell tonight. God’s vintage loneliness has turned to vinegar—All the archangels—their wings frozen—fell tonight.
I beg for haven: Prisons, let open your gates—A refugee from Belief seeks a cell tonight.
God’s vintage loneliness has turned to vinegar—All the archangels—their wings frozen—fell tonight.
