Icy tears are falling from the skies, washing away the dust from ancient walls, but nothing can wash away the blood of the lost children. Much time has passed but the souls of the dead are immortal and only the people have forfeited the memory of the years when cruelty and lust prevailed. Much is hidden in the ancient refuge once enveloped in gossips and now entangled by cobwebs. Do not cry when you find some little graves in the yard - better take care of those who reside now in a dark house, just across the road.
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