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tangled in this divine coil |
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I ponder on the concrete and the highest of laws |
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the injuries layed upon cannot be excused |
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I will keep you company not much longer |
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for I see my end is bound by earth |
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but not thrice I go under |
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at the smallest of ills, I lay my sword upon the table and ask for blood |
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I place a plague on all your houses |
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my half is dead for yours has slain |
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the end is not the end you live, so why dread I send no messenger |
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the nectars and wounds |
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are too great to let by |
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all I ask for is justice |
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for death is death no matter if the axe is golden |
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and love is love no matter how selfish |