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In the land of ghosts there is nothing but inevitable suffering In the sea of misery you’ll feel nothing but agony I mourn as the heavens have me torn The choir sang in harmony just as I heard tone of melancholy The clue that I sew will turn blue As thou posses divinity one will lost their sanity for one’s vanity As I longed for Judas’ embrace, I lost my grace As I wander forth through the gates of hell, I heard the devil’s vocal while you lost me in your sight’s focal How strange as your voice faltered resonance as I thought it was happenstance in desperate thought of searching for providence.
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
The Poet’s Last Words
In the land of ghosts there is nothing but inevitable suffering In the sea of misery you’ll feel nothing but agony I mourn as the heavens have me torn The choir sang in harmony just as I heard tone of melancholy The clue that I sew will turn blue As thou posses divinity one will lost their sanity for one’s vanity As I longed for Judas’ embrace, I lost my grace As I wander forth through the gates of hell, I heard the devil’s vocal while you lost me in your sight’s focal How strange as your voice faltered resonance as I thought it was happenstance in desperate thought of searching for providence.
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
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