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The Goat of Mendes

Animus Mortis

Discharged from celestial wombs
A first degree murder of ravens
Followed in fugue through the crack of doom

The Goat of Mendes
I set regime
In the galley of the shadow of death...

Angels in raiments
As pure as coal
Taking their payments
In tortured mortal souls
A bold direction
The abyss edge
But on cold reflection
One they warmed to nonetheless...