The gracious source of tears.
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I cherish you.
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Highly I love the images you create.
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If I can`t be touched by you,
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let me dream of you at night.
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Gloomy creations...
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The dead arise...
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Low they whisper to eachother.
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All signs of life is ending,
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as you hear the funeral bells.
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Life is overclouded.
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Empty for months to come.
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The mournful time is closing in.
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Beauty in the name of sadness.
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Autumn is the sorrow.
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Come to me my dear.
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The season of mourning has arrived.
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I become the spirit of grief.
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Autumn turns to winter,
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and makes me what I am...
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...A sad being with a cold heart.
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A Mournful Bridge Over A River Of Tears
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Penitent |