Ire by Oddland
Far, where dawn never ends
Away, are echoes the old lady sings
Crying that years
Years I've been trapped in this cave
Inside, a candle consumed by its flame
And all of the repenting words aside
I desire to hurt you
Desert the world you belong to
In the forest where I lay
My hungry heart
My mellow mind
All my thoughts
They're weak in kind
They're dreams
Red is the mountain of mice
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