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I feel stillness and the whisper of souls

They restlessly ramble

Damp fresh graves like open wounds

Wait for their new owners

I feel the numb skin of the dead

I am the dead

Broken bones slowly rot

And souls roam like vagabonds

A dead horse is rising

It’s carrying the reaper

His black gown is falling down

Covering cold pale faces

Black hoof marks of evil

Lead to the fathomless abyss

Red eyes are watching

Lips of those who keep silent