| It was in this haunted place under a moonless cloak of ebony
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| I was drawn to the glow of a young spiritess weeping in the woods
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| The blackest ravens and ice-veiled boughs
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| Have spoken of you, goddess of these bleak woods
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| I yearn for your embrace, spiritess of the melancholia
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| Show me, again, your sweet face
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| Enchant me with your rich, cinder burnt ether
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| Lure me into your arms and bless unto me eternal death
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| She had spoken to the dawn
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| Her words wisped in tongues of the wind
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| And then silence…
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| Pale clouds betrothed the dawn
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| Black rain fell
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| The birds wore masks
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| The haunting stain of her woe
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| Had burned itself into the oak
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| Night had gone
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| Bereaved, I was torn for her
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| One last time I witnessed her beauty in the distance
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| The arms of the trees tore at her morbid gown swaying in the loathsome winter
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| breeze
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| She faded before my eyes
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| Since that day a thousand veiled birds have taken flight
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| And the melancholy rain still pours forever on… |