| Lead to the river Midsummer, I waved A 'V' of black swans On with hope to the grave All through Red September With skies fire-paved I begged you appear Like a thorn for the holy ones Cold was my soul Untold was the pain I faced when you left me A rose in the rain So I swore to the razor That never, enchained Would your dark nails of faith Be pushed through my veins again Bared on your tomb I am a prayer for your loneliness And would you ever soon Come above unto me? For once upon a time From the binds of your lowliness I could always find The right slot for your sacred key |
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from the ashes, an angel shall rise again.
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~ladybomb = photography
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