Charl van der Sandt
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Green fields of history reflect against the night;
Lovesick air around us, pulsing in it's might
The everlasting truth that is the neverdying sun
Will beckon in the ambience for the neverdying one
Breaking through the silence comes the neverfading scream
A high-pitched sting of irritance on which you will be weaned
Empty words that sing to you, the neverending empty song
To break you from your emptiness and end your empty wrongs
Old moon has lost it's beauty and is fading in her night
Soon she shall be emptied and will die without the light
We too will...