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Jul 2016
The freedom not to go anywhere

The mute color of personal reality

The faithless faith in branded insanity

The silent scream that only I hear

The dry bleeding that only I feel

The dark barrier I built by time

The final escape is happening finally

The ghosts behind my eyes cry alone
It's like being transferred to windowed cage and being forced to look out.
Written by
Victor Timmons
447
 
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