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Nov 21. 2025
My hall is a lattice both fragile and sure. A tapestry trembling, yet death in its lure. A pattern of silence where wanderers stray. One touch of its beauty, and none get away.
Nov 21. 2025
My hall is a lattice both fragile and sure. A tapestry trembling, yet death in its lure. A pattern of silence where wanderers stray. One touch of its beauty, and none get away.