| In times of strife
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| You seem to lose it all, and more somehow
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| No waning life can retrieve it
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| Can’t make the world a better place to thrive
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| Nor can I keep on persisting
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| You’re on the wane in funereal winds
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| With a thousand winters within
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| Your life unveil its weary eyes
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| Sun sets in somber skies
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| Your waning desires brought to fire
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| Where your withering life has been mourned
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| For a thousand years, where the pain blend with ire
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| And the night enflames us both
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| «Walk down the narrow path
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| Years of decay
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| Feel life’s soul-inflicting hurt once again»
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| You’re dying now
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| You make it feel somewhat divine
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| Your lenient eyes are somewhat healing
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| You make it feel the less a strife now
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| A precious life cease persisting
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| You’re on the wane and eden’s hewn
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| Falter still under a funereal moon
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| Your tears they sweep upon life’s shore
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| Until the day you weep no more
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| Sunset’s on the wane
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| In life we suffer the same
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| When sundown comes around
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| Stalking strangers on hollowed ground
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| Endarkened souls entwined
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| Together at the end of life
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| Embrace the new divine
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| Or suffer another lifetime
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| I can feel the flames
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| The fire lick me in vain
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| My life can’t be regained
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| Not now, nor then, nor ever again
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| We cross our feeble hearts
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| The day our souls depart
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| Life move in strangest ways
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| We died somewhat, somehow in every day |