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lament of the damned
Death's dark grasp, a suffocating squeeze
A fate worse than life's most dismal freeze
For in death's realm, no hope doth shine
Only eternal darkness, void of design

Life's struggles, though they may seem dire
Are but a fleeting storm, a passing fire
But death's cold grip, a permanent scar
Leaves naught but ash, and a hollowed star

In life's depths, a...