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When the past interferes with the present
Under the blood moon in the sky of memories
I stab the the soil with my shovel
blood outpours from the wound staining the garments of my mind
amidst the familiar chill of the night air
perspiration beads my brow
and panting I barely escape from...
I stab the the soil with my shovel
blood outpours from the wound staining the garments of my mind
amidst the familiar chill of the night air
perspiration beads my brow
and panting I barely escape from...
