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Like your eyes can see, my hands can write ...
Oh lips, sweet and gently quivering
Cease your heart pained shivering...
I wear the crown
Of a blood bathed prince...
Drowning in the flowers,
Where once you shed for me...
I went to see her dance one day,
In the fluorescent flower fields of May...
From a tower of despair,
that scars the sky...
Beneath the dirt,
Inhale the smoke,
sweet and white...
Beneath the earth,
I've been born of stone...
I've touched the flame of chaos
in the hollow chest...
I'm in the shadow of a hand
caressing the chalk frame...
This body only reminds me of my own temporary individuality.
Sometimes, the most simplistic, is the most beautiful.
I'm not giving up ... I'm just not doing anything constructive.