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My hand is stained. I see it no matter, I feel it regardless. The hatred runs deep, the violence boils beneath. In a mask for the mass, humour was the course. In a platter for the rest, a distortion was forced. Depravity a mistake, Society a joke, Pain a fortune. You've seen nothing here, You've heard nothing. Turn around, away from me, so I can be free. "Nothing has been, Nothing is to be." Blood dripping down my eyes, yet another soul I spurned. Another step you took, away from me, and another, and another, I hear you loud and clear, I get you more than any other. I've embraced you a million times in my mind, this, is you embracing me.
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
Stitching Hatred
My hand is stained. I see it no matter, I feel it regardless. The hatred runs deep, the violence boils beneath. In a mask for the mass, humour was the course. In a platter for the rest, a distortion was forced. Depravity a mistake, Society a joke, Pain a fortune. You've seen nothing here, You've heard nothing. Turn around, away from me, so I can be free. "Nothing has been, Nothing is to be." Blood dripping down my eyes, yet another soul I spurned. Another step you took, away from me, and another, and another, I hear you loud and clear, I get you more than any other. I've embraced you a million times in my mind, this, is you embracing me.
halfheartedsoul
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Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 9:19 AM UTC
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