| The solemn walls of charred stone
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| The tapestries of flesh and bone
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| Ebon doors which gaze upon
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| An atrium of carrion
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| Every form of bliss l abjure
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| Every form of dream l renounce
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| Enter the procession
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| Of the unfortunate ones
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| Of those who suffer
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| As a form of prayer
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| How l long
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| To hold and caress you
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| In my withered arms
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| In my withered soul
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| As life turns into the adverse
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| Flesh quivers dismally perverse
|
| Shrines of humiliation
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| Erect to praise the pain
|
| In this temple
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| The house of scars
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| In these chambers
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| Where torment soars
|
| In this temple, where
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| Withering breeds
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| In this sanctum
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| Of decrepit seed
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| In this fane
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| Where spirits bleed
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| We are merged in septic grief
|
| In this temple
|
| The house of scars
|
| In these chambers
|
| Where torment soars
|
| Here we rot, forever entwined
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| Here we rot, in burning throes
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| Here we wither in hollow sheaths
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| Here where ghosts shiver in fear |