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Not All That Claim Your Soul, Come from,

A Valkyrie, 

which, touched.

Should that, such beauty.

Have lit fires, in the hearts, of men.

Turn friend, against friend.

Let loose, poison.... from, the shadows......

That stabs deep, like knives.

And blinds, with dark whispers, of malcontent.

I'd sooner cherish the memory.

And take leave, to.....

Defend my honour, in that, doorway.......

To

Valhalla.

Giajl © Jim Love