In twilight’s grasp where legends tread,
A mystic rose from shadows spread,
Rasputin’s name, both feared and famed,
In history’s annals, forever claimed.

With eyes that pierced the veils of fate,
And whispers swayed the throne’s debate,
He danced with power, dark and grand,
A spellbinder with a guiding hand.

Through courtly plots and intrigue’s breath,
His tale unfolds in shades of death,
A force of nature, fierce and wild,
The mystic monk, both sage and child.

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