| Through fire and myriads of trials
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| Born the daimon erect
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| Exhausted by the tribulations of mundane living
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| We aren’t alive nor dead anymore
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| Our murky grins, our fatigue shines bright
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| Like wingless fallen angel
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| Caressed by the satanic grace
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| we are finally blessed…
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| Blessed by the blackest light…
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| Sweet are the magic hands of death
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| The grand consoler of the world!
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| Within his forceful arms
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| Sleep is deep and dreamless
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| Yes, Indeed, he is a welcome visitor
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| A quiet and peaceful harbor,
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| among the roaring waves of the oceanic life
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| Of which the outbreak knocks and flushes
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| The steep and treacherous beaches of death in vain…
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| Happy lonely boat
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| Floating in the peaceful waters of the black gulf
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| So much it has suffered from the wild waves of mortal life
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| Tied within this bay forever
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| My boat, it does not need any sales, nor it does steering
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| To this deadly embrace
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| It will find the quietness it always craved for
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| oh death you’re welcome…
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| And farewell my body, from which I reaped no sweetness
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| With every passing second, darkness becomes deeper
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| Until the oblivion I crave covers me
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| With lids completely sealed
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| Surrendered in the coldness of my shroud-clad body
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| I’m now ready, to be separated… |