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Gothica
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The Land Beyond
From the rugged mountains, Down to the valley, Amongst the fresh clouds Which cross my body, The wind doesn't let me breathe And I dream of dying.
Everyday I want to enjoy That sensation of mystery Which I perceive sometimes, So strongly, It swells my heart, Forgetting that there's no going back.
Delicious dream erases my fear Of the end which is coming.
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