| Eternal are the wounds from which eagerness bleeds denied
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| Through such grievous endearment, with quietude so sad
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| Beneath the swarm of agonies, frail words turn to dust
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| As hope bears the nexus of its cold postmortal bed
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| A distance has grown, another decreased
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| Each moment devours the very heart of resistance
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| As failures feast, solemnly deciphering eternity
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| Mongst blisses waned, where life’s vestiges fade
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| … there’s only seclusion to marvel at
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| With the first light, darkness came along
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| Like a constant stream with no source nor mouth
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| Subsurface pain efflorescence — my internal garden of roses dead
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| Where the grief is still lurking in every dream
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| Reaching still for the deep dark void
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| The wine of the damned I taste
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| Tears fill the chalice of bittersweet dolefulness
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| As I wallow caressed by desolation
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| … disconsolate seasons to witness
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| The sun welters dying, enswathed in diaphonous eclipse
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| Beneath the swarm of agonies — one last solitary glimpse
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| To set ablaze the leftovers of an illusion’s synthetic art
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| The amorphous remains of a petrified era sobbing in my frozen heart |