The Death Of The Dream Once I gazed into the night ... the moon lit up the sky ... the air so cold ... the sky so bright ... I heard an angel cry. Her wings were torn ... her heart it bled ... she could barely fly ... I asked her of the tears she shed ... she answered, "Tonight I die". She said, "In this age of decadence there is no subtle pain ... all the prayers go unanswered ... all the tears in vain". I learned one thing that starry night ... this angel wept for me ... and although she died within my arms, in my heart she'll always be.

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