| When Earth in its young prime languished with grotesqueness
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| Where solely wicked chimes loudy would resonate
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| A challenging saraph whose chants force hearts to break
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| Had divine glory found in sordid depths unknown
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| He reached a place so down he felt his wings perish
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| Crawling through desperate lands, not knowing night from day
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| For so long he remained dormant in such grey lairs
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| But never will ignore the essence of his strife
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| Painting a mournful world, by fierce natures engulfed
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| And from that brave journey a very beast was born
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| Sometimes he asks himself is truth still deafening
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| But then he laughs in panic of delight Satanic
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| Howling by the moonlight:
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| Father, I’ve raised you to renown
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| And laud your thousand names to despicable crowds
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| But had I wished to bring you down, revealing your secrets
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| Your shame would surely match your questionable pride
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| And without fame you’d be but a fool to deride!
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| Then thought no more, for suddenly his logic failed
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| Silence and utter night has become his temple
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| When Earth in its young prime withered with deviousness
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| Where solely blatant chimes would resonate
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| A confronting seraph whose chants could enlighten
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| Had divine glory found in a darkness that burns |