Our lady of seven sorrows,
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Mother of mourning, precious lich...
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A white horse found your grave,
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Then it was beheaded.
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The funeral goat's semen
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Annoints your resting place.
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Far below, the state you're in replenishes
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My well of loss
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As things from beyond watch as you rot
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Beneath me.
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Wretchedly, I pine as I begin at once to claw
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The earth
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To free you from the worms, to free you
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From damnation.
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The stake in your bosom pains me too...
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Wistfully, I gaze into those empty holes
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Which once were eyes
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That beheld so much blood, that beheld so
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Much evil...
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Cyanotic lips caress the cold grey face of
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One interred
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Whose flesh is much too frail, whose flesh
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Begins to quiver.
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Mistress of my flesh,
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Your servant longs for your kiss,
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To hold you once again,
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All pretty with blood...
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Now shall all of heaven weep.
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-----------------
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Lichmistress
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Cryptopsy |