| With the hollow echo in a soundless night
|
| I woke to see solitude grieving over my emotion
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| And as it wept its liquid nourished my disease
|
| Soon all myself became infected
|
| And so onward it began to spread
|
| A fervent sentiment my inside so has sheltered
|
| It means more wicked than ones ever set before
|
| Tremulous ghastly sighs of a time long now past
|
| Embrace my newborn fear
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| It beckons me forth so sad and gloomy
|
| Drawing weakened limbs with its fragrances
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| Sudden air filled with the sound of its hurt
|
| Composes an elegy of weep
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| Ahead shines my fortune
|
| But here darkness ends my path
|
| Never will the bliss of that embrace
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| Take over this solemn curse
|
| What I hear now is the cry
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| Of the mother of time
|
| For she gave birth to immortality |