The Gate of Death
The pathway to the gate of Death
Grows darker at each step we take,
And when we reach it, out of breath,
Our bones, before we rest them, ache:
But suddenly, as if a spell
Came over us, we fall asleep.
In Earth's warm bosom cuddled well
Her children never toss and weep.
Grows darker at each step we take,
And when we reach it, out of breath,
Our bones, before we rest them, ache:
But suddenly, as if a spell
Came over us, we fall asleep.
In Earth's warm bosom cuddled well
Her children never toss and weep.
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