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"Roses wilt,
the dead turn blue
and hearts grow icy cold.
But lonely tears
and dreams of you
will haunt me till I'm old.
For I'm the boy that she loves not,
born to weep and moan.
A hopeless heart that love forgot,
doomed to live alone.
Broken limbs, burning flesh... needles in my eyes.
The punchline to the cruelest joke
is that... LOVE NEVER DIES." |
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