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Dead, pale my mortal dream

To wither under a veil of morose

Softly dying this doubtful morn

Forever wrapped in cold still earth

Such desolation of spirit

Paradise grows cold

Agonies so soft

I embrace degradation

Whispers of misery

Emotions torn from an unscathed soul

Glue my anguish

With mournful psyche

And pass into easefull death

Paradise