stonedsour's Diaryland Diary

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Kaltes Leben

Cold were the winds around him

The spirits of heart and key

A door that held his prominence

Was locked despite his pleas

His mind was vast yet empty

No ballad of muse he sought

The image of light and shadow

Belittled his human thought

The bane of true existence

Hath wrought upon his frame

He stood in haunting wonder

At the dance of a harlequinade

He heard their silent voices

Their art and hallow sound

Entranced within their antics

He finally chanted loud

“My name is Kaltes Leben!

This life is not a lie!

My voice hath found its purpose!

My will shall never die!”

With that his soul had strengthened

He walked with the pride of men

The world at last hath realized

The essence of Kaltes Leben

1:34 p.m. - 2004-03-28

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