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Dae Neleduin
Submitted by Sylrond on December 30th, 2016
And the mad thing of muted song, it wears a string of dead flowers that light the ways in the deep and the dark. Their white moonglow turns to fire at his whispered word, and flame, and flickering shadow; contained, it consumed nothing but itself. Controlled, it was not allowed to become what it should have been.
Source:
Me
