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Blinded

Too long blinded by hindsight You'd burn your eyes just to see a new dawn's light Wicked things made of sinewy grace Say it isn't you, but guess who chose this place? When was it that you began to fear joy? Or better yet, tell me why you fear at all? Day in day out, curse the air you breathe Why do you persist? A tighter tie is clearly all you need. Today, tomorrow, just which will be your last? It never comes, no not for you, you have to live to hate your past. Can't you see the parody you have built into yourself? You want death, but without the price of  health? So lost, buried under your own lies Every wise man knows, no one really wants to die No, just to collapse our darkness, just to see a better life. So dispense with the sickness upon which you are built And on that day, I will be free of your guilt.
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Written by
keith-jenkins
Irish
Published
Feb 19, 2012
Lines·Words
17·164
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