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Non-Exact Match

To melt the heart, and to multiply the ruins, By all their gates I have set the point of a sword. Ah, it is made for brightness, Wrapped up for slaughter.

Verse ConceptsGatesStanding In The GatewaySparklingLosing CourageGod's Sword

On his ruin dwell do all fowls of the heavens, And on his boughs have been all the beasts of the field,