You are a ghost in the wounds of poverty,
Alliance between flesh; I’m buried inside of thee,
Too many times awake, and I haven’t begun this day,
To stay – our Freedom from their Wrath.

But, too many wounds I have seen,
Trash ridden treasury – you’ll never see.

It’s time to blind away from me,
And I don’t want another day,
For this to fall, for them to raise,
For Death’s Decay to compromise,
Visions unclear beneath flavored fear,
Annihilation – I see it so clear.


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