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Fate of a sold soul
How art thou without regret oh thou son of man, selling your soul for a piece of worthless bread of worldy desires.
aren't you have no dread of the fire below, which at first cools the thirst of cold on the soles of your feet, before long...
aren't you have no dread of the fire below, which at first cools the thirst of cold on the soles of your feet, before long...
