Oh, flames of the heart, oh flames of the hate and depression, such heat, such corruption, and yet such depression, within this darkness I lay awake, for there is no sleep, there is no light, there is but the shadows whispering, oh so whispering in the eternal flames of darkness...
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that withen the light, there is shadows.
but to a heart that is dead, ligh doesn't matter
only the reviving of itself.