The Mausoleum

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By Lunaria

The Mausoleum This is her heart, a mausoleum cold and gray A silent tomb where dead men lay Where spring doesn't come nor flowers bloom This is her heart, a barren tomb She lies there in silent repose Waiting for this dark hour to close A prisoner behind self made gates Shackled in chains, there she waits She will wait if for eternity For love to come and set her free If she had ears to hear the truth She would leave that place forsooth For you see, yourself first you must love As was instructed from above So come out from that self made gate It is for you yourself that you wait. Copyright © 2004 Lunaria (Lila May Guptill)

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