| So the mighty space closed
|
| And returned the old woods' vision
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| Plain magic ended
|
| However it remained in spirit
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| As strong as in transfiguration moments
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| Cause i saw it with another eye
|
| Reception shallowness retreated
|
| It became my flesh
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| A dark force which has made me its son
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| Distant from the rest of herd
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| Cannot submit to their craft
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| Cannot bear their compassion
|
| Nothing in common with false humility
|
| Not considering myself a god
|
| Although my hatred is above me and it is pure
|
| My visions run to dead pyres of carrion
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| Ruined monuments of pathetic life
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| Crosses shattered to splinters
|
| And this what they builded for cons
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| Taking themselves for a tending to perfection
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| Truly plunged into swamps
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| Lacerated and torn to pieces
|
| I walked out of the wood calmly
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| On my old snowy path
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| The trees have been bowing
|
| I walked out different into old enclosure
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| And i know that i’ll always be returning
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| When the sun smothered at sunset
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| When the moon in silvery cold is rising
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| So i arose in might
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| With no fear into death no fear into torment
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| And when i’ll drown in solitude
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| It shall give me eternal peace… |