| How come I shiver, hurt and bleed
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| If in dreams I cannot truly feel?
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| Who would dare say, who would claim
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| This hallucination isn’t real?
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| Synoptical glitch looking glass
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| So enticing, real and free of lies
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| Prodigious, omnifarious
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| It nourishes, it feeds my starving eyes
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| Artificial, the catalyst, organic, its progeny
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| Voracious spectral offspring, so sweet in its hunger
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| Unbound this new vision, optical re-genesis
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| Threatening, so complete in beautiful deformity
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| These authoritive visions order my collective senses
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| My questioning, doubtful, rigid self to kneel
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| A Judas syndrome in effect, former self, the deceiver
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| Its denial, the wretched kiss that kept this in disguise
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| Cast off the concealing veil, the rational cloak of doubt
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| Torn off the restraints, the vile shackles
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| Burned away, the agony, the fear, the grief
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| A new set of eyes cleansed by a new belief |