Blood Birth by Ed Blundell

 Posted on September 6, 2016 by

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Blood Birth Ed Blundell We stand on the bare, windswept moorside, In the circle of standing stones, Where the priests are chanting the ancient rhymes, And the cold cuts into our bones. We are deep in the bleak, dark midwinter, And the land must…

 Category: Fantasy, Poetry      Tags: , , , , , ,

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