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This dreary darkened sky in which |
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I float benumbed into my |
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Enola-gay filled with ambitions failed and when it will collide with the towers of madness |
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I'll fall off to the ground hope will flow out from my wounds some unfit dog shall spell a tear of grief |
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Far at east, by the silky way the mirage of a forgotten town rescuse me in storms religions lost and empty sanctuaries |
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I let my body being slowly buries along other fools |
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To the silence we belong, and the silence in this wilderness throve the |
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Via Crucis across the |
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Dead Sea then caught in |
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Samarkand bazaar dream |
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No, don't search for me at |
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North where the nonsense of my frienzied notes lead as now |
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I am the Czar |
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In sleep I spread my veils as day is much too harsh to sail while dream are bright and manifold |