| Though manmade, of terrestrial birth
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| I’ve always walked upon this earth
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| A stranger searching the unknown
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| For that distant place that is my home
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| Oft I watched without affright
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| The stern magnificence of night
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| By moonless skies and beasts denied
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| Bewitched am I, and wanting
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| A yearning beyond form
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| A call without sound
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| Enter ye pale lord of silence
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| With passion I have come to loathe
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| This globous sty of vain misgrowth
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| Where man amass in nauseous mound
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| Flesh 'pon death 'pon flesh abound
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| So come!
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| Reap!
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| Kiss of Death!
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| Lips envenomed
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| Devil’s breath
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| Beneath mistletoe sharpened we shall meet
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| A unit to extinguish the failure of the primordial touch
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| The kiss of death
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| My love shall last 'til death do me part
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| For thee, ye children of my heart
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| Ye glass of swiftly running sand
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| Ye harvester, ye cold white hand
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| The yearning has been with me always
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| To tread inside your timeless hallways
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| To know thy scent and taste thy flavour
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| To sense thy grasp, oh reaping saviour
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| Shapes without form
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| Voices without sound
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| Enter ye pale lord of sorrow
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| Kiss of death
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| Lips envenomed
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| Devil’s breath
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| Beneath the waning crescent, we shall meet
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| Eager and fearless shall I receive the final touch
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| The kiss of death!
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| Of death |