Teaching you an artificial truth, That you will grieve no more, That you will die no more. Narrow minded mercenaries, Slave traders soul collectors send a promise of destruction to those who will not kneel derision of the upright ones as fear devours all doubts. But there are so many things I hold beyond their reach
The doom you promised me may come, I'm not afraid, You cannot save me I am the counterweight.
The doom you promised me may come, I'm not afraid, You cannot save me I am the counterweight.
&I will grieve no more,
I will die no more.
THE END, RETOUR AUX SOURCES
