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Death
O death! You're like poetry
And I've been promised by a poem, that it shall be mine
As the pulse (of life) recedes, the pain & suffering go to (an eternal) sleep
And a yellowish (young) moon starts to...
And I've been promised by a poem, that it shall be mine
As the pulse (of life) recedes, the pain & suffering go to (an eternal) sleep
And a yellowish (young) moon starts to...
