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| This hand touches the lute While my wondering mind Seeks fringe distractions to fill the void Even the music I play Strays the truth into a musky, eerie forest Where pleasant colored plants bear odd fruits Truth looms close It aches for its awakening While I fight a mysterious battle Unable to know who my enemy is Tortured flesh Saddened, aging , vessel I’ve been bound to you Through these uneasy days and nights I demand your pleasures I want your delights I sleep in your senses Tell death do we part |
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