Sunday, July 27, 2008

Stained blood glues sticky to his hands
The pain of love he understands
Bet too afraid to run from fear
What he has made followed him here
Inside the trenches of his mind
Nobody laughs, nobody cries
Stare out the void of noman's land
To where the broken figure stands
And by the light of falling death
He sees himself for the first last time.

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How do I lose myself?

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