| Soul-bearer guide me
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| Above this mindless life
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| Above the willow and the wading trees
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| Over perceived horrors, over blinding faiths
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| To find my waking hour
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| Uncaged and free
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| Raven-wings carry me forth
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| To feel the blades of grass once more
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| That in life failed to grow
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| Hold the flowers that withered in sorrow
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| Breathless, embraced
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| In ivy thorns upon the barrow
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| The way goes ever on
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| Past the stream and wandering star
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| Under mountains of old decit
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| Over white seeds sown in winter
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| Bnt, distorted, twisted, and old
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| Led through dead-end roads till we’re cold
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| Even if some endure and search an awakening
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| Like caged birds they yearn scented gardens in spring
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| To break away from the delirium
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| To open their eyes, even if late is the hour
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| Like from a dream, it wakes their soul
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| The dead move quick and silent
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| Over great barren seas
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| Only the dead can see them
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| Portraits of life
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| Grey but vibrant are they
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| Breathless but full of life
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| They’ve reached the summit
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| And their wake is complete
|
| Raven-wings carry me forth
|
| To feel the blades of grass once more
|
| That in life failed to grow
|
| Hold the flowers that withered in sorrow
|
| Breathless, embraced
|
| In ivy thorns upon the barrow
|
| The dream, the illusion of life
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| That has gone past its time
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| My eyes are peered to see
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| My mind has been set free
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| The final fate is sealed for I’m not blinded
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| And my wake is complete! |