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Unbeliever

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Oh, I used to believe in an afterlife,
let me tell you, ignorance is bliss.
The thought of morality cuts like a knife.
It is something I cannot dismiss.

I will be thrown in the ground,
in a coffin so cold,
never to see day again.

Not a sight nor sound,
'til the world does grow old,
and nothingness I will be then.

Oh nothing, sweet nothing, an old friend of mine.
We met before I was born.
We will meet again when my last moon doth shine.
When the ones I loved come to morn.

Nothing is not good, nothing is not bad.
Nothing is nothing at all.
But nonetheless nothingness makes me quite sad
From the world I do not wish to fall.

The day will come when it will be my last,
to walk upon this earth.
My hope in immortality is not steadfast.
For death is always coupled with birth.

I do not wish to live on through that of my art.
That is not living at all.
For those are just memories, shadows of my heart.
Of the person who once had it all.




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