Blond beast, you're still alive
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Still not broken.
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Sting-burn news with a knife wound -
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Do not count them.
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Twilight freezes, reproach glimmers
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The shadow of the bell towers.
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In whose chest incessantly the darkness in defiance
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Will it be an honor?
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The degrees are raging, the armor is melting,
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You can feel the signs on your skin.
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Bitterly rejoice in the challenges to accept
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Forward.
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The tree of lived epochs dries up
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Ash matting.
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Grabbed unpretentiously in a narrow groove
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Ancient ford.
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And the sky is brave to the heart,
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In turn, it is easy to appreciate
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And never cease to exclaim:
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"Keep the path straight, my chosen one!"
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To gain greatness in the haze of deserts,
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Know firsthand.
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Fates are depersonalized by the fortress of the bridle,
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Like one.
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By voluntary choice put on fire
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Mortal surplus.
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If the fight fell out - swear to the truth
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Life is given.
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Reward sacraments, fraternal guilt,
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The clouds are torn to shreds.
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Smoldering statute of limitations related guilt
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Sober up.
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Gilding of the North bronze dreams
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They prophesy to the bold.
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Where forever sowed through exhalation
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Pure light.
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And the sky is brave to the heart,
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In turn, it is easy to appreciate
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And never cease to exclaim:
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"Keep the path straight, my chosen one!"
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The joy of scarlet, the bright brilliance of the constellations,
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The path to the sparks is straight.
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copper raw foliage,
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Long look of the bride
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The path to the sparks is straight.
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The paths tear the palms
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The path to the sparks is straight.
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To a prayer, to a groan,
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The path to the sparks is straight. |