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♥ "Water rolled down my cheeks. Perhaps rain. Perhaps tears summoned by beauty. The night sang. The earth smelled of rotting wood and tender shoots unfolding in darkness, feeding on decomposition, death and birth together in the pattern, one springing from the
other. Both in me. Both of me. I of them. I was the earth and the night and the rain, suspended at the apex of being. There was no time, no sound, no sight, no need of them.
I was.
Rapture."
- Morgan Llywelyn's Druids.