Of how the hell fell in love
and went straight to heaven,
I know the story of a dove
who used to weep for a raven.
Nights when Earth cried
for tearing Sun and Moon apart,
When horizons used to pain world,
there was no war in the name of art.
Take me back to the time
when agony was not a trend,
time of ancients,
where lies beginnings end.
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