January 1997The art of dying; a hymn to the demise
March 1995Whatever in this world you are going to find.It's
February 1998Today's emptiness, tomorrow's dream.An addiction, like never seen.A
January 1997Alone again.Again I am desolate. Again I am left
December 1997Autumn will scream from inside of me,Not a false
December 1997Return from yourself, the reaper of my fieldsReturn, for
March 1998Remember...Return...Reverse...Realize...Remember me, as fading images.
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