| When life has ceased
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| When the termination of the traditional spirit
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| And catastrophic barbaric desolations
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| Surrounds the core of my linear cold menace
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| Feeling the power and reflection of the inner winter
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| Which is always present in this cosmic landscapes of sorrow
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| Are the winds and whispers ashes of an ancient memory
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| Which tries to release the thousand pictures of agony?
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| (that lies dormant in the rust and and frost of my cosmos within…)
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| Shattered and deceassed all the once bright possessions
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| That lead this strange land are now just a feeble flame in my soul… |