| I carry my sword, my emblem of victory,
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| in this chaos I flourish…
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| I believe. |
| My dream is the loveliest dream.
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| Just the wish to have it fulfilled is enough.
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| I watched my step when I entered the narrow path.
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| I saw and I understood…
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| Its goal lies beyond the black fog, beyond the cold grip of terror.
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| To reach the goal I have to walk a long way,
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| have to tear my flesh on the sharpest thorns,
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| have to squeeze my staff so my hand gets cramped…
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| Through weird depths of bloody tranquility,
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| through darkness, pain and chaos.
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| through still, serene silence…
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| through the lashings of icy rains…
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| Suffering… Is it a challenge, a divine trumpet?
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| Day and night I lay there knocked to the ground.
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| Scars and wounds were my constant company…
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| The taste of cold blood woke me up from my restless sleep.
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| The heat of fire burnt my hands, stiff with cold,
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| when I tried to make them warm.
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| Sackcloth covers my body
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| And I’ve had to lower my horn in the dust.
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| My face is flaming red with tears,
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| and death has painted my eyelids shadowy black.
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| And this although my hands are free from violence
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| and my prayer is pure
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| My days are gone, my plans are shattered,
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| gone what was once my heart’s desire.
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| I wish to change night for day.
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| Daylight would be near now when darkness breaks in.
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| No, I know Thou will carry me,
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| Thy presence is greater than the darkest agony.
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| Thou, the only one. |
| My fortress.
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| Thou alone are immortal…
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| Covered in glorious majesty
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| Thou alone are the Lord’s anointed.
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| The darkness recedes, cause the true light is already shining… |