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On that eve, the rain fell like knives |
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As clouds of dark condensed above her |
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Yet in bliss unaware, they loved without care |
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Not knowing this night would devour the other |
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By morn', she was drawn to silence |
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As ignorance now flamed inside her |
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A mind lost in these acts of violence |
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Within walls of cold white that surround her |
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Falling walls of cold night that now bound her... |
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So steal a line, recite a verse |
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From the poet's play, but none could heal her from her curse |
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Like a helpless child, she was held at bay |
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For she wished to leave, but the world stood in her way |
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To her comfort, then came the rain |
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Playing a tune against her window |
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But in death unaware, her mind was not there |
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But halfway to a world she now craved to go... |
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In dreams awake, she prayed for release |
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If only this scarred heart could finally cease |
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Enough nightmares (for a lifetime) she had now seen... |
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And no hope is born from this eclipse |
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For the world will remain as cold as it is |
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Cold as it's always been... |
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And I stole a line, but she could not hear |
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The voice of her love nor the end drawing near... |
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"Follow me" |
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Spake the crow |
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In tongues of old |
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And she followed him |
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And on the dawn of the third day |
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She left behind this world of grey |
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And even the rain froze to mourn as she slipped away... |
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"So fragile is our slumber |
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Awakened only by death's cold gleam |
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For what are we but dreamers |
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On the sharp end of a broken dream..." |