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Part 11 Lyrics

Among the trees
holding her out my hands,
"what about a walk?" I avoid the sharp splinters of her sweet shattered gaze.
Step by step into the labyrinths of doubt,
every shelter: a trap.
While distresses I witness the twilight of my heart, you spread around drops of light,
unaware of the rustle of invisible syllabes:
"You will not get out of eternal peace!"
And the virgin blade kisses -freeing- your white throat.
No pain, I'm quite sure,
she feels no pain.
The voice still throbs:
"Each man kills the thing he loves!"
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