Back to the End
I thought I had a soul; turns out I lost it so long ago.
What I contemplated as my beautiful world turned out to be an additional box underneath the dust containing means of accumulated dead, bloody meat. This unexplainable thing strives to communicate a disease to me, following me through each and every crack I can hit upon. Running for so long, my only method is to believe that patching up every single hostile mark it engraves underneath my skin is a key necessity. This thing loves fear and eventually digs up a final crack that we’ve all hidden beneath.Mesmerized by the rare combination of a strong infatuation along with a heavy spirit, naturally caused colors to converge into striking imagery. As hopes and wishes came into mind in haste, passion rapidly worked as magic forming my own scenery through paintings annihilated from admiration.I was off the beam to think I had eternal supremacy. The beauty of power blindfolded me into a lucid dream only to wake up back to my worst enemy. There is no more running when there are no more doors to be seized. Paralyzed once again but this time is for the conclusion. I am captivated and my only concern is will my story be heard. My paintings dissolve like ice to liquid, one last tear for the fall. My world was just a trap the only power I uncovered was how to be captured.
Thinking I had it all, Oh ignorance is in fact bliss.
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