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Fallen from grace
My soul's grown old
Birds are dying
as fading light
draws last mourning beam
Across the hillside

Dark moors lay cold
And quiet this night
Blackbirds crying
As freezing moon lays cruel
deathly beams
Through your minds eye

Elegy of what these open wounds
may bleed
All alone with hatred growing
unborn seed
Fallen from grace   My soul's grown old   Birds are dying   as fading light   draws last mourning beam   Across the hillside      Dark moors lay cold   And quiet this night   Blackbirds crying   As freezing moon lays cruel   deathly beams   Through your minds eye      Elegy of what these open wounds   may bleed   All alone with hatred growing   unborn seed