Jeff Harrison

 

Abyss, Her gossamer

Abyss is amid The Muses; Their faces Her pinions obscure. Can stop move more halt, lyre's
silence more hush, Abyss obscure more awful eyes? Always cold and white those orbs
when The Muses beheld me. What may Abyss with Her obsidian regard offer me?

 

 

 

 


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