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A Dual Pact When in pain I try to find A different plain on whitch to set my mind To distract it from this downword vibe And thereby avoid the lide The rushing tide has no remorse It might hold me if I cross its course But the suction of its waves Has taken many a mind to grave Last shred of hope. I cling to as I float. Throught the lightless night... And here comes the tide... Grave and dark - a dual pact Overpowering the ones who locked The energy to pull out of such mire