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Cold Under The Grave

Dead Orbs

Here I lie, where silence weeps
In earth's cold arms, in endless sleep

No morning Sun, no starry gleam
Just soil and stone and shattered dream

Above, the seasons dance and die
While I, unseen, beneath them lie

A whisper lost to wind and rain
A soul that mourns in mute disdain

Yet still I dream, though dreams are vain
Of touch, of voice, of joy and pain

My bed now is rough, watched by crows of hell
Cold under the grave, I dwell