بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ
ain't half the man i claim to be, oh, for all the things i thought i saw, no one's blinder than is me. the gift a lump of coal, to be kept for all the years to come, swallowed whole, these pills more than simply bitter, like vomit to the soul. of beacons i've bled over and over again, thought there might more reflections waiting, but proven wrong instead. all i am is desolation, been so long i had something left to break, still there comes this moment life throws me up in its wake. oh Creator, take it all, its Yours, i despise it but You make me live, force these veins to pump what makes me tick, but spliced so often might as well as be a skeleton with flesh-clothed bones, walking and moving from home to work and work to home. not frozen or shattered, not broken or scattered, that part of me simply no longer exists, now just an echo of what once was, but no longer is.
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