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The Path to Death
Prancing through the shadows of death
Dried flowers brushed my shoulder–
The air was crisp and misty
My body began to feel colder
I passed a lonely city
But it was I who felt that way
Such thoughts oppressed my mind
And slowly–I withered away
Around the corner he was–
Waiting desperately for me
The mist guided my path to death
And I was soon to be free–

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