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Both pain and relief after losing someone |
| She left me still In my finest hour With all good will Brought out to be sour It could be worse I heard them say The blackest of curse On your darkest day And it may be so They could be right But my lowest low Was still my highest high My time of Pride My light of fame Was the coldest lies And my hanging shame I could of cried or cursed out her name Instead I lied And shared deeper in shame Worse or not, I can not tell Brightest hour or darkest day My heart once filled became a well At which I hope hell shall not stay |