These crimson stones, hiding in my pocket, dry me to the bone, and drench out sockets. How their lusting glow, is forever a gift, will make a cerise show, and a mind-warping sift. It's painful I see, to relieve in a realm, and never ever be, these are the red gems.
Graph IRI | Count |
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http://dbkwik.webdatacommons.org | 20 |