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The Sounds Of A Faceless Soul
06/29/2004 @ 1:45pm
By:
shroudedpassion

I can see right through
Your lies and your strife;
A perfect end for a perfect life.
A realization,
That we cannot succeed,
Risen by love,
Stricken by greed.

You quietly kill me,
Although it does not show,
They think that you're an Angel;
They Simply do not know

Of your twisted benevolence,
Your sick and loathing control.
The only thing they know of
Is my evanescent soul.

The Sorrowful Divine,
They really cannot see
The bent and broken frame,
That's clearly known as me.

 
Copyright © shroudedpassion, All Rights Reserved


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