Through the tattered and torn fabric of his death robes, the Grim Reapers grotesque face peers out from the shadow, cold and unmoving with sunken eyes that have seen an eternity. The fabric of time wears thin.
Oh, elegant raven. The things you have seen while watching over the dead, the voices that trail back to the emptiness before this life began. Spread your wings like shadows to embrace another soul.
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