There is no poetry in the agony of Death. Just a faceless snare, just a shapeless lair...
deep in the dungeons of our soul
And the eyes bleed the ink of despair
like two dark swallows with black cloth on their mast
crying "my Death i sail to Thee... at last!
deep in the dungeons of our soul
And the eyes bleed the ink of despair
like two dark swallows with black cloth on their mast
crying "my Death i sail to Thee... at last!
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