Trumpet the Harlot a lament for the dead

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Another day has past and gone
Nothing's changed;
You still exist
Sometimes i feel
Your dead memories
That come and haunt me
Those useless thoughts
That sway in dreams
Of all the moments
In my life
I need to carve
The visions in my head
Be still my aching heart
Her noose is tight around you now
So how can i do anything for myself?
Be still my beating…
The time has come
For both of us
Forget the lives
That we once knew
Seems like this place
Has been drifting far away
So quickly
Like winter's touch;
Cold and empty
I can feel it in my eyes
Do i lose, or do i even try?
Be still my dying heart
It will all be over soon enough
So how can i do anything for myself?
Be still my beating heart
A lament for the dead
A means to an end

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