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Diary
Mine is pure darkness
It is as blackness is
Damn the light which comes from
You as a moth to flame I burn
In the twilight of morning I rest my weary eyes
For the benefits of the nights bounty were many
My soul has been redeemed (with those of others)
I missed my love tonight
Hiding behind the figure I cannot bare to face
That of a dead profit
And his beast of burden
Thorns ripping through his brow
Skin soft and white
song
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