In mine most desolate hour, rain falleth from blackened sky,
thine opulent beauty ,such tragedy befell one as radiant as you,your name on my lips,your voice i will never hear, I long for you and your caress macabre.
Memories of the bleeding summer sky warned of tragedy to come, scarred by the events of that day, lonelyness to burn me like a thousand lacerations,why so cursed must I be that you would not take me. your beauty will make the angels weep
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