| This form will decay
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| This body stripped bare holds truth, standing in stark stillness,
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| destined to rot, prying off this flesh
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| Shadows set against the dusk
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| Sifting through the image of emptiness, our mind poisoned with guilt infinitum
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| In this darkness, in times of pain
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| Our skin pulling us to the earth, set against the dusk of our age
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| Downward current, roots that grasp and tear at us
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| Suspended, awaiting our judgement
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| Crucified by time, left to drown, down to the soul, withering away in the ashes
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| wrought from the coil
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| Where does your faith lie, as we behold the overwhelming disease of selfishness?
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| Held by the cries of mourning, our dying world, held down and torn apart
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| These are the roots of the world, crossed out |