| I saw the world descend beneath a black pall breathing, seething
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| The unanimated now alive in murky, abstract horror
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| Upon the casket, lying in ruin upon its side
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| The writhing abyss obscene in the burning lamp’s ghostly light
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| Stretching into infinity; |
| the open lid reveals a view into the dephts of
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| internal hell
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| Petrified by visions in this hypnotic interlude
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| For I am the deceased, within the crawling skin and sightless eyes as cold as
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| death
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| Demons silently extract my sanity
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| The march of a funeral drum, beating
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| So like my blackened heart
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| May the darkness I welcome
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| Enlighten the enigmas of my faith
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| Solitary figure in the endless cycle of mortality
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| A self-constructed purgatory to languish in for time unknown
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| In this gloom-filled room, the true frailty of life is revealed
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| The spirit disintegrates long before the flesh is lost
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| The concept of eternity crashing down
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| Desperate to the believe in the unreal, for truth is the path of pain
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| Close the curtains; |
| shed some darkness on
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| The intricate patterns that adorn this spectral carpet
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| Pity me such as I’ve yearned for, mourners gathered in solemn rite
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| Their misery was always my own
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| Breathe once again; |
| the passages drone distant and detached
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| I shut my eyes and pine for the funereal essence
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| The presence of death slowly fades |