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My nights of soaring are long gone
The aimless fantasy flights are passed
The time in the moon without the sun
Were great but Iíve seen my last
Now black light is the superficial moon
And fog machines replace the smell of clove
And the anti-Magick of clubs surrounds me
Break the glammer that midnight flights had wove
The laughter is gone replaced by drink
And I feel alien in my own skin
The light and sound wonít let me think
But now this is all I have.

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The following comments are for "The Death of night"
by nimue_the_mighty

I know how it is to end up drinking when you dont feel yourself...its not pretty at all.

( Posted by: EndlessFear [Member] On: March 17, 2004 )

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