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My Dying Bride
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The Distance, Busy With Shadows
In heaps they were
the deads stacked high
I crapped and sang among them.
Black was I, yet bent to it;
God and I had shown them.
It fell at my feet
No!
It didn't just come to me to heal its wounds
I will kiss it
It is within me now.
I feel the birth of doom
And the fruit of my body,
Stares right out of this room
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