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feeling abandoned, well up the tears, see your self die, see all your fears
this is the hand that you've been dealt, make with it what you can
think about this as the steel shines in your hand
feel the hell emerge, feel the scream well up,
see that little death, give into the urge
pristine for so long, feel the evil overtake you,
see what you've done, you've let the beast entertain you.
try to pretend it doesn't exist, keep up the act,
but you'll soon see you can't escape from this pact.
its death to us all, nothing left to control,
figure out how to escape and you'll save your own soul.
but on that rare day, where you can't escape its trance,
you can't escape it's sharp grip
think back to the days before,
and most of all remember this.
Surrounded by anger.
That which eats bones and burns flesh;
Turns thoughts into rage and rage into action.
Death and destruction is all that can be considered
as a hazy reality envelops once again.
Should she give into the red,
dive into the deep, succumb to the flames,
let it burn and char her pale skin.
Where is peace. Languid cool waters; a blue fog that cools and soothes.
That which kisses her perception and soothes all the chaos;
Pulling her back from the brink of aberration.
Composed reality should be what she thinks of as she falls (guides herself)
into the chilly waters again. Should she find the center of life, let normality consume her,
give into nature..let it wash over her like an ocean wave.
Burning blackness all around, electric awareness of all that is the disease within herself.
She is dissembled; a lie and all that is self-deception.
To validate feelings leaves her dead to the world.
To confess to the world is to deny who she is.
There is no happy-ever-after.
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