If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.
Alternately in our lives come black and white.Nothing is visible through the silent dark hole:no light, no life, no meandering respitein the tunnel of death, journeys the eternal soul.
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Alternately in our lives come black and white.Nothing is visible through the silent dark hole:no light, no life, no meandering respitein the tunnel of death, journeys the eternal soul.
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