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The city shone desert under cloudlight
When I entered the cold, myrrh-incensed room
And I watched, crushed, the freedom of the raven
In polar cry of cello and guitar

In this day when Winter left with cold tears in her eyes
To the lead grave of the killed Spring
The city is grey and cold and wilted
And the gate to a nest closed behind my back.

The harsh day torn a veil of charms
That gave beauty to the city dressed in bronze and violet
Will the night ever return to this land
To weave miracles out of trees and streetlights?

I know not, as I know about the curse
About the beast that chases my shadow.
And I know that there's no escape.
My destiny's known for thousands of years

------
Stille


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The following comments are for "Myrrh"
by Dew Of Blood





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