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Pale Womb
21:32
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2. |
Astral Cradle
14:21
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3. |
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The moon, pale archivist of night,
Forgets the names it used to keep—
The sighs of tides, the ash of flame,
The prayers mouthed softly in their sleep.
It casts its light on graves long sealed,
Yet cannot trace the face once known.
Its silence deepens every year,
A crown of ice, a heart of stone.
What echoes linger, faint and small,
Are ghosts the moon cannot recall.
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eldrovian Reykjavík, Iceland
Eldrovian crafts haunting funeral doom, plunging listeners into deep, abyssal soundscapes filled with melancholic beauty and existential despair.
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