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"revenant" poems
i am much younger than i am my hair is dark and thick instead of pruned bald i am lean and meek feeling hollow as if weightless we are at an airport with no memory of getting there i had left my hotel room urgently in a jacket that is not mine i can't find my Swedish wife whom i miss like a panicked child and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before and know all to well is angry and could care less if i got lost forever i am going home to my parents house i remember that they are dead but we had just spoken there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's they wait for me on my way the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar yet old hat and no matter how long i walk i can never find their house located somewhere in Brooklyn on Haze street in San Francisco i have a business and retain no idea of what i do i left my cloths somewhere and i don't know why in a locality i cant remember for a reason that doesn't exist a beautiful woman smiles offers me *** she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too but do not know and never met i want to cheat with her but guilty kisses will ruin everything so i turn away murdering desire in an already anchor-less miasma i remember a past my life a continuum of disjointed vagaries tears well up i fear myself a figment a bodiless revenant stranded in a fog sparkles and smoke incandescence and shrouds a dis-junctured soul that clutches memories like braids of dust living in the eye of nothing a labyrinth of shades lighted by the sun of cognizance a wretched phantom transparent husk living a dark fiction my grave a womb i am the dead living
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 10:27 AM UTC
*REVENEANT
i am much younger than i am my hair is dark and thick instead of pruned bald i am lean and meek feeling hollow as if weightless we are at an airport with no memory of getting there i had left my hotel room urgently in a jacket that is not mine i can't find my Swedish wife whom i miss like a panicked child and my Asian wife whom i've never never met before and know all to well is angry and could care less if i got lost forever i am going home to my parents house i remember that they are dead but we had just spoken there will be soup and Hors d'oeuvre's they wait for me on my way the streets and boulevards are unfamiliar yet old hat and no matter how long i walk i can never find their house located somewhere in Brooklyn on Haze street in San Francisco i have a business and retain no idea of what i do i left my cloths somewhere and i don't know why in a locality i cant remember for a reason that doesn't exist a beautiful woman smiles offers me *** she is friends with a girlfriend whom i'm committed too but do not know and never met i want to cheat with her but guilty kisses will ruin everything so i turn away murdering desire in an already anchor-less miasma i remember a past my life a continuum of disjointed vagaries tears well up i fear myself a figment a bodiless revenant stranded in a fog sparkles and smoke incandescence and shrouds a dis-junctured soul that clutches memories like braids of dust living in the eye of nothing a labyrinth of shades lighted by the sun of cognizance a wretched phantom transparent husk living a dark fiction my grave a womb i am the dead living
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62
Kindly tell the sun to look away I don’t want to see my curtain sway Indeed, because these fabricated joys Are demolished by an obscure ray Serve me breakfast while the day Lies as cold as the dew I’ll drink Now what to do is just obey Before we are rued by fire’s blink Put my hot tea beside the lake Serve it dead and withered The day is boiling and we’ll be late For we are but a paper scrapped The fireplace shall be planted With torn thorns of brown and black No rays of red will favor me As long as the sun scorns at us Wipe my mouth with torn fabric It pains me so to be stained in red That I long ago forsaken but now Dripping down my crooked neck For the ghost of you who preyed On my solitary beat of ill and **** For your revenant who feasted On my will and half-eaten heart For the glooms of your fairy Schadenfreude upon my sorry For the life I did not live To the joy I took from you Raise the cup and shatter it Open the curtain and drain our life of lies To the eye of the day and God’s pity Serve my breakfast before I live
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Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 10:36 PM UTC
Breakfast
Midway upon the journey of life I found myself riding zigzag down dark streets, for there was no straight way through that teeming urban grid. Thus I travelled deeper into the night, while rosary beads swung hypnotic from the mirror, reflecting the revenant eyes of one raised by an invisible hand from salt water rocks where as a boy, he said, he should have died. Deftly navigating changing lights of amber, red, and green, he humbly inquired after my beliefs and the state of my soul. As to this I could not say, so I drew it out and held it gingerly by the rough edges, examining as best I might in that dim backseat its wrinkles, creases, and scars. In the reflection he saw all these clearly, and with gentle resonance spoke of things impossible to know, less difficult to believe, and blessed me so that on passing out the door I found my soul again soft and warm.
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May 26, 2019
May 26, 2019 at 1:25 PM UTC
Ride Share
*Cimmerian Chaos, incediary The Requiem of the Revenant: Tis I, The Breathing Song Conjuring a vestige, Ensorcelled by what I'd been envisaging. Maimed by Tempus, The Temporal Arbiter Words reverberating on the wavelength of my soul Left me vibrating desolate and wayworn. Utterances deluging me in the Dominion of Doubt Until I reached a crossroads For perilous was the pilgrimage I peregrinated. The Penultimate Tribulation has begun And though angst is festering in my flesh, The Sacred Lotus of Dreams has not wilted, Shalt it ever upon the Lake of the Holy Oracle; Elysium of the Soul is awaiting those who are stalwart In the Visage of the Shadows.* ∞Hallelujah∞ By Sanders M. Foulke III
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Sep 29, 2017
Sep 29, 2017 at 5:32 AM UTC
The Requiem of the Revenant (Originally Penned in July of 2017)
The poleax of Paroket a pietersite soul sheath the head which is not, keening like a red horse between two lions slaying men and peace with the hymns  of ascent, swatting humanities darkness thrilling the sword of Michael; First Cause , sweeping the graveyard dust garden of  Magna Mater touting predicant trappings of the etheric revenant a self compassing mandala who is all right side invoked By laudible Yahwistic nutation. ELEETE J MUIR.
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Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 2:13 PM UTC
Heavens Snowflake, Hells Water.
/             conversation over a bbq dinner being given the information over a new M.I. movie.. i really think tom cruise should have won an oscar for -         born on the 4th of july... without bias,    but given the oscar award for the grunting and heaving, and minimal dialogue / monologue of leonardo's the revenant? the world is a cul de sac...   and what remains of it... is a shitshow worth, of a congested street with nothing but, paupers /             window-shoppers to be lined up; mannequins coming alive and taking to disco dancing the hell out of having donned a boney m afro; drunk, squinty eyed...    looking around, surmising my thought with...            huh?! it's a good thing i'm this good at drinking, never having dropped acid.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 10:38 PM UTC
however much you hate tom cruise
Wondaland, a.k.a. The Magic Metropolis June 13th, 2021 Esteemed Readers and Writers, Gangstapoets and Hangarounds, Gangstapoetry proudly declares that CREATION 96 is now the second unit of our Global Movement. We are welcoming our new members. You are now a part of us. Much Love. Tizzop GANGSTAPOETS **** 13.8  *  MIKEY DA STREETWISE  *  EAZY LEGS *  ADORABLE GREGGIE  *  MONICA MATADORA  *  SLY BOOTYGIRL  *  COLLAPSIN CHAOT  *  THE LADY REVENANT  *  BEEN  *  WOOZY WIZARD  *  TELLY  *  CRATERSKATER  *  CHEYENNE IS STARVIN  *  CASPER THE PSYCHOTIC GHOST  GANGSTAPOETS DESERT SAMURAI  *  PRESTON  *  ALBOW  *  SNOWBLADE  MUTANT  *  SAMBA  *  UNKLE OF DOOM  *  PLAY  *  ANTWONE  *  BOBBY BUTCHAH  *  TINA  *  JOEY  *  DREAM SEEKER  *  TRANCE DISCIPLE  * *  MOTH  *  DR. ****  *  KOBA COBRATONGUE  GANGSTAPOETS SVETLANA  *  GUNJAHTOOL  *  LOUIS ORTGIES  *  MISHU BRAVE BEAR  *  GÖKHAN TATCHOUOP  *  DESOCIALIZED KID  *  WIND DIGGER  *  SABIÇ  * JUAN  * DEAL  *  LUCY TARANTULA  *  TEXAS HOLD ME  *  SOUTHSIDE DRILL ASSASIN  *  SHAWN  *  JAMMED JAY  GANGSTAPOETS THCO  *  TIMMY ROTTEN  *  PLATIN ZIPPO  *  WORLDWIDE WAGGING  *  ZOMBIE NEIGHBOR *  BUTCH  *  KWAME'S LOST SON  *  TRANCE24/7  * JIMMY  *  JOSE, FELIPE & CATHERINE  * LAST OPTION PHIL  *  KIAN  *  MAX NEWMAN  *  MAGIC GOON
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Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
Creation 96
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (Originally Written on August 18th, 2016)
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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...and haunted by undead royalty. We sink to extremes and discover solace in finality, because we yearn to be morally black and white. Engineers of blood-driven machines, garnered in fleets, unsinkable, parasites, unkillable. Your wights and revenant wander around you like brain-dead dogs caged in useless human flesh. Finding ease in ownership. Bliss in the wavering ignorance of taking orders without question. We are gods or insects.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
"the Lich King."
Under your persuasion... I awoke this morning not wanting to awake, because then the fog of agitation began. What a crazy, fun, and pervasive ray your light shed in the shadow of my disarray. How precipitously you undressed me with what could have been your honesty. Maybe it was the guidance of your smile, or your manner when you asked me to dance. Something almost surreal and effortless about you unhinged my walls and thwarted my ambition. A flower on the wall, you noticed me. Time was of no essence on this unbalanced wave, only a tremor of reflection. Every note defined in your melody, couldn't help but carry me. Your eyes a mirror of affection. Left a soft sting of wanting to know you more, but now you've disappeared. Your revenant scent left behind on my pillows. Afraid to move as the color of that night might bleed away. The air of reality waking my consciousness over will. Your memory left only an alternate advocate of pleasant distraction. Almost compulsively I sit up and search for shadows you may have left behind, accepting my perdition I dress and prepare for the daily grind. Thank you for your mark against the gray, words I never had the chance to say. Under your persuasion of romantic disposition, I was lost in you and forgot to wonder the meaning of your intention.
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
Under Your Persuasion
A moment recurring does wash away like a river rock The smooth surface of an eroded stone is just as hard as the abraded silence that  rivers through  loneliness Sometimes terrified of this foolish blue moon heart; of its constant hunger for  whatever it is it wants; the way it stops   and starts ,.. like a revenant whisper fanning smoldering embers of  fallen  stars buried deeply in  the  catacombs of an unrequited heart out  of  reach, just a step away, but close enough to touch the crumbs of some other's love        bestrewn sanguinely ― marking the footprints calling down an unshorn pathway never  found At a deserted crossroads, many a moon tiptoe past inconspicuously; unnoticed fallen stars stagnate lightless in a flash of darkness, moving back in time just  standing  still harlon rivers ... March 2018
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Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:50 PM UTC
Silence rivers through it ...
The Sovereign of Songbirds Has been roused Emitting layers of harmony Borne of exultation, borne of woe, and Reverberating in the Key of Elysium Let your dreams guide you. As the fulgent daystar Dawns upon your starry spirit, The musicality, the euphony of amour Will abide within. Soar unto the stratosphere, For the limitlessness of flight Belongeth to The earthen vessel waxing ethereal; Furthermore, it is only achieved through self-transcendence. Ye are Children of Manumission; Therefore, fulminate from sea to shining sea Until the obsidian of hate Descends into Magisterial Oblivion Arising anew as The Element of Freedom. The Requiem of the Revenant shall rise, The Maw of Darkness will fall; Ultimately, the Paean of Light will Resound upon the four corners Of the Terraqueous Mother. (Se' lah)
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Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 4:22 AM UTC
Awakening in The Key of Elysium (Originally penned on Wednesday, April 7th, 2021)
An innocent glance at photo’s still waters feeling a revenant song heard calling in the wind as the tears come streaming with the loving and the hurting The heaviness … Oh the sweet heaviness a fading heartbeat settles in palm of hand with the accepting tears of merciful surrender The weight of a fallen mountain upon the footprints that held up an unseen world Helpless to stand back up tall as a sky so far away The substance of the unshouldered weight to bear; evermore gazing unto the sunset to understand the beauty of the light,.. and a hopeful sweetness at the dimming of a longest day An unknowable ache and suffering of the leaving ― an orphaned love with a faith in contrary hopefulness; a joy at the dawning, going home toward the guiding light harlon rivers  ...   June 2018
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Jun 14, 2018
Jun 14, 2018 at 5:58 PM UTC
a broken arrow
For tragic is just a trapped magic Let's try harder to break the cage Where it dwells in Just like the hopes packed In a coffin So come all jolly lads and whimsical princesses take out your torches under the streetlights for the lamps have withered out and nothing can save you except what you believe in the unseen so come all jolly ladies and whimsical princes dance with the revenant before they vanish for nothing can be done unless you succumb to the delusion and the foul mess you created for the purpose of self-destruction So join in morticians and Men of desolated sorority Grab out your shovels to dig up the magic Stolen by the faeries of the day that reside In the caverns of gloom and doom Where trickery binds our wrists And lead us to the dead-end Painted with magic And will be painted again for ever more With our tragic fate of trapped magic So I say, “Come, come, jolly lads And whimsical princesses Join in, morticians and Men of desolated sorority For nothing can be done unless You have something to hold on in life In darkness or in light Visions of hell or heaven Deluded or disillusioned”
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:57 AM UTC
Mandragona
I stalk you in the shadows, Returning from my grave so shallow, Your precious pride, I'll make you swallow. Your bigotry knew no bounds, And thus unbound my fury like the hounds. In your shadow my eyes doth glow, The plotting of your downfall they surely show. You claim to know not, The crimes unto me for which you will rot, Yet through all your fear and tears, My approach you shall not hear, And that podium upon which you hold all your reverence, Shall become the territory of your Revenants.
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Revenant
a quatrain is not a tomb. it's an altar of cellulose and low merchants chanting. we sell the individual curses of our seldom mirth. songs sting as they must - for they must not ! if they will not hurt... if they will not be beautiful, for the asking. a poesy is a feast. a revenant of our choosing, unless you had no choice. i am the receptacle of This voice; and solve ridicule with ranting, just because. i fuzzy the logic to inspire the haggard hopes of our refrain; unrestrained. remaining on vigil, i mark the stars passing in a waking slumber - with a fool's mask. and a talent's masking. i am the urge. how my mind works is my heart's domain. a wrench in the parsley we hardly; i daily. i parsnip the rube barbs of a bards assemblage. i revisit Atlantis. Polaroid pics - with graining. with irony i photo shop. a quatrain is not a tomb, but a rarity, as we say new the old things that make us we. for i, for one am one. i continue from no sum and eventually add up to something because - why not ?
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 10:16 AM UTC
HOW MY MIND WORKS IS MY HEART'S DOMAIN
It comes when the wing crisply cuts air, or when the brush flicks with flair. Through the pews when the light paints walls a vibrant, revenant view. Masterful as a Commander; catching her gently in the shifting tides. 
 A carpenter’s touch, a moment of nirvana; it is we, serenity savors. Let it be graceful as a Danseur; falling as silk in pirouettes Yet impossible to grasp, a flash of truth like lighting: an instance over. Still the chase is everlasting, so long the giver is victor. For stronger we’d be, pursuing love like the dawn of the hunt. A luxury, free.
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Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 9:23 PM UTC
Praza (The Prize of Passion)
“Taking photos is not allowed here”, said the caretaker. I, at first thought, “I'm not a traitor” . I move ahead and observe the event. Things appear like there is a revenant. Not even a single picture, but I was printing better than the 3D- printer. . I can make as lively a sketch, as it comes out of the white; but the same feeling I cannot transfer, unless the recipient sees the outline. . I can talk to you on a video call, but you know it right? The increase in one dimension, affects my sight. . We are taking photos of important events; but we try to ignore the bad clicks. We are using our eyes to see the bad, but our camera to see the sketch. . But deep down we understand that we can develop the camera; but not sensitivity. The picture always looks better in reality, than in the gallery. . #My_Writings @mywritings.emotions on facebook
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Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 9:43 AM UTC
Real Shades
No thoughts of refuge, it’s bad… throw it in the refuse bag Mystery miss me coz' I choose black, History feel me, I can’t refute Dad! The symmetry of the cemetery is relevant, you can’t rebuke that… An emissary mandatory and misunderstood became a revenant, coz' I refuse that
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Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 3:54 AM UTC
Mystery
yeah I'm back for the revenge to take my beloveds' avenge here I'm waiting for the three out of casino to set their soul free I followed the man who was stout I'm gonna **** him, no doubt he hurt my beloveds' wrist for his (own) I'm gonna slit the drunk ******* was asleep I slit (open) his wrist **** deep he woke up with screams and cry I watch the rascal- bleed to die it was the time for the strongest man who held me by my shoulder then he was tough and could give a fight so I tied him with rope, held him tight I chopped off his shoulder for his act of being bolder I bid him last goodbye and remembered you as I left him to die my third victim had him isolated to my surprise he sleeps naked! I decided to stab him all over no ones gonna listen as no one lives closer! but my revenge is incomplete until I punish the real culprit the one who was following her I'm gonna **** that scoundrel luring the guards to back door I found him asleep with irritating snore somehow the guards find out and give out a loud shout to which his father came pleading me begging my pardon and to have mercy I stab the knife in culprit's heart and eye escaping the scene, left his father to see him die the guards didn't dare to cross my way I wished you A Very Happy Birth Day standing beside your grave to be with you again I crave the police came again to arrest me but this time they only found my body the bird was gone, my soul was free I lived with my beloved ever after happily!
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 5:27 PM UTC
The Revenant 2 (Short tale)
You came to me again, in a not so distant dream, a lucid deja vu version of you, I swear you felt so real, where have you gone, touch me with your stare, grace me with your presence, take me with you somewhere, anywhere but here, here in this house, the silence has never sounded so loud, I’m sick of being awake when everyone seems asleep, caught in the web or rather in the net head in the cloud, caught in the web, or rather the net, head in the cloud, I said it twice so you’d get the reference, I’ve found that most our here are lost in indifference, and I just want to go to sleep, because nothing is what you left me with, and I only see you in my dreams, so that is where I’m determined to return like a revenant, you came to me again, in a not so distant dream, a lucid deja vu version of you, I swear you felt so real, where have you gone, touch me with your stare, grace me with your presence, take me with you somewhere, anywhere but here… ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
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Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
∆ The Revenant ∆