Go Forward My Child
My heart throbs to the sound of a new music,
Where burning arrows fly,
And time reaches across a nation of hurt.
Where band aids kill and knives play upon a winded chime.
She is a witch in Christian paint and only covens herself.
Go forward my child
Go forward and make thy music hurd upon pedistools of kings.
Win the heart of thy maker and feed upon it's existence
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