| The turmoil, the tempest and the burns
|
| The inner lament, nothing magnificent!
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| Screens on the outside…
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| The promise, the hope and the scars
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| The inner voice, mute, screams way out of sight
|
| Turn over stone after stone, to reveal a scorpion
|
| The turmoil, the tempest and the burns
|
| Promise…
|
| A feeble glow in the dark… evoling only to descent
|
| A stare is enough to… put them out
|
| Self loathing Orchestration
|
| A shaken young man
|
| Has aged far before it’s mine
|
| Now the days have passed
|
| When he paved his way through the lies
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| They haunt him at night, and reflect through his eyes
|
| A twich caught moth
|
| The hunter become the hunt
|
| Whence will come serenity that
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| Has no death as its roll
|
| Where lays silence that doesn’t bind with loneliness to become a whole?
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| While sleeping, by nightmares he is devoured
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| His body inhabits a dead soul, eyes empty and hollow
|
| Awaken! |
| Heed our call
|
| Don’t let go until you become a whole
|
| Live thy dreams fulfill thy desire
|
| Dream to live
|
| And never ever cease |