| My own sick world, dreaming of desperations;
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| Desperations create hatreds in our dark souls and suspicions in my existence
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| Torment, subconciously, image of misery, image of death, haven´t you realized
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| yet?
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| Our souls are sinner
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| While we are returning back followings are felt:
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| Fear of life
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| Birth of decay
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| Rising idolization but indefinite source of us
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| Infinite amount of wrath
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| Fetid huge minced philantrophics gush out their grudge
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| And these kind of loatsome ideas
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| Should only be the products of morbid mind
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| Aversion to a mentally bandaged mutual supporteds
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| Confronting aggrogan babtists
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| Their babtism makes you follow the path of your slavery
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| Acquesce the agonizing ache inside;
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| It’s because of your conceit and surrounds you like borbed
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| Adoring this false movement, a pain is felt from down abdomen
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| Babling of a red liquid down my legs into basin on which I am standing
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| Maximum appetite I have ever had is satisfied by fantasies on my mind |