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The night spirit sighs stirring the air;

The clouds descend in the rain;

Wailing, the fragile stars fade,

Flickering like the dying lamps of the tomb.

Dark as the greatness of death,

They guard that sad field of pale processions,

Where the graves close behind the night.

Beyond the haze

Tearing the heart to pieces

A groan breaks the silent depth.

Memories and sadness fade away

Embraced by the immense dark