Do Goblins dream with tortured souls, with pain from depths dark and drear? Goblins walk in light and dark. They do not hide their souls with shame. Do Goblins' lips drip blood as claws scratch deep? Blood from flesh, sweet and rotten with decay. Claws dig deep that we might live. Do Goblins howl for loss unquenched with thirsting breasts in anguished ache? ’Tis your tortured souls, unspent with life, tossed beyond all care you hear. Do Goblins dance where none can see? Goblins leap and dance beneath the star filled skies, where the shadows of the moon trick your eye. What is that fearful howl I hear when shadows move beneath the moon? Only humans howl in lightless fear.
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