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In the morning mist by the waning moon |
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Through the woods she set on foot |
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With a sacred blade cut the berries down |
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Dug up the dreaded mandrake root |
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Tread my path to summer's end"This bequest I leave you", she says |
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You will see what could be evergreen |
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Turn to copper and fade to gray |
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By the standing stones |
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Atropine eyes smiled at me |
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Sitting in a sluggish vertigo |
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Sands of time form another dream |
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No love without sacrifice |
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No liege springs without decay |
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The final kiss is a wormy one |
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In soils cold caress to rest we'll lay, to rest we'll lay |
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Tread my path to summer's end"This bequest I leave you", she says |
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You will see what could be evergreen |
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Turn to copper and fade to gray |