Rituals of the Oak - The Horla | Текст песни

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• Rituals of the Oak
• The Horla

This shadow of mine
Born with the night
It creeps in, so vile
Reaping my mind

Creature of dark
Cryptic, unseen
A specter that never sleeps
A presence so stark
Praying on my dreams

My stranger's eye doesn't shy
O nightly fiend, just leave me be

Nights bled in days of endless schemes
This waning mind is the end of me

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