I'll never go away from your heart. I'm sorry if I've died, and broke it in parts. Though now I'm just the wind and just a mark, a cross down in the soil and in the dark, I'll never leave you, I swear it on my pride. Frail and pail like the ghosts in the nights, rattled into dust by the light I'll battle endlessly with all my rage. Indeed the defunct is always defeating oblivion, And I could enforce the gate opening for you. I will cry hoarse and bend the doom.
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