A crown of thistles and thorns, Worn as I walk through the Wasteland Carrying my burdens and hope on my shoulders The noon light and the twilight.
Step and another forward forever Into my now broken journey ahead Footing the edge of the final ledge Final steps filled with regret ā Or could it be hope?
My Passion is dark from my view; Somehow, I shine as a Beacon To the hopeless and the desperate, The hearts that are broken by fate.
String me up now before I destroy them all, All along with myself, in my pain. I was meant to be this way, To die while Iām still pure.
My bitter victory makes you ever sweet.
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