I wish I could get soaked and be poked by the cold sharp needles of the ethereal and seductive rain. I know that it can soothe out my burning pain, since my mind has slipped away from myself to another state. Before I would be tasted by the lips of Death; before I would be carving out my own ways to meet my end, I wish I could have an Elysian vision drenched in your pleasant self. And when I stand at the gates of my grave, I may feel my end contented with the kissing of the halcyon rain...
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