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Our time was short
not aged like wine
The truth was plucked
from the vine
And I never got the chance  
to say goodbye


The thoughts hold on
The heart despairs
The ghost of you
is everywhere
And I will always be next to and
. . . near you

so goodbye . . . farewell . . . goodbye

The day begins
just like it ends
Is it God's good will
it came to end
But my loneliness
shouts out in vain

So when something ends
it's time to begin
I won't be looking behind . . .  
it's just the wind
And my arms are aching
from the pain

Goodbye . . . so goodbye
fare thee well

So go on now . . . cut your losses
Close the fact inside the coffin
Take the key and
lock it deep inside

Learn how to say your prayers
Long for the day without the cares
The evening air comes on now so chilling

Say goodbye , goodbye now . . .  forevermore

Goodbye . . .
you've closed the door

With every step I'm feeling
Where once so firm I'm reeling
from the overburden
of my motal ways

So just release my last goodbye
Don't even dare to ask me why
The chances are cast
the lot now devided

. . . so goodbye . . . goodbye . . .
. . . goodbye . . .  fare thee well . . .
Have I become so bitter
So tainted in thought
That I lose appreciation for beauty?
For where I have begun to see weeds
Others see
Merely a beautiful flower
Perhaps it is simply a reflection
Of our inner selves
The child of beauty saw a flower
The child of darkness
Saw a ****
But perhaps that is merely
An overexageration
For I still see beauty
Even where others would say none lies
I hesr beauty in sounds considered mundane
And relish every contact
With things and people
That I consider lovely
Perhaps it is
That pain does not breed
Bitterness
And cycnicism
Always
But sometimes
As an indulgent god
Might grant a weary motal a boon
The pain instead breeds
A greater appreciation
For all things
An eye which sees beauty
Even in what others
Consider weeds
An ear which hears beauty
Even in sounds
Considered mundane
And ugly
Fingers which feel warmth
And beauty
In all human contact
And in all the things
Which over a lifetime
They may have the joy
Of coming into contact
With
Far beyond the grasp on motal hand
In the depths of imagination
We soar high above the cites and trees

Your black wings create shadows
My white ones create light
Once we were enemies
Now friends

Oh my demon
Oh my devil
Would you still feel the same

If I told you what really happened
That cold morning in November?

Would you still crave my touch
Would you still hold me close
Or would you leave

After realizing I was a human
Pretending to be an Angle?
Would you stay or go, little devil?

— The End —