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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2003-12-08 | | It is the middle of the night And I sit here not sleeping tight, Thinking of what I should be doing Instead of research doing. For tomorrow I’ll be the subject of a test And fear I’ll be listened lest. But as tonight my wish came true, thou Old witch did not come through, I have my reasons to believe That tomorrow… I mean today, Will be the greatest day. But I’m afraid of nothing more or nothing less Then that one person whom with devilishness Bought my soul for nothing but a flower less. It will not last, and I, too, Like the young girl with the tomb, Will pray with all my godliness Finished the wall before the downs not be And so delivered shall I be. Till then my hart won’t glitter, My soul will bitter, For just a rose which soon will whiter. And if the sun will rise the same, I will be saved by someone… thee. You’ll be my guardian angel from the skies, You’ll bring me peace and bless my eyes. And if my last salvation can’t be thee, I’m doomed to die. In my own deep Hell, Created from my own well, Grounded on my fears, Decorated with my tears.
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