The Willow
Doctor Smoke
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Withered hands grasp an empty hour glass
The sands of time have passed you by
Do not be afraid of the end
I pray it’s but a transitory phase
Behold! The moment of transformation
Take part in the reversal of your creation
Shed life to be born again
Scattered ashes like dust in the wind
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As the willow weeps the hand of death creeps
Into your chest and steals your breath
Final exhale takes you beyond the veil
Enter thee and become free