| The sun
|
| The sky
|
| The music
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| The people
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| The one…
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| They’ve all come for the movement and offer silence
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| Make them stand…
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| The make believe me troubadour
|
| And his visceral ties to patronage
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| A flame in the harsh ritual of theater…
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| Scrutinies pierce vulnerable poise oh so helpless…
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| To hide this gasp, the curtains devil crimson eats valor
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| And dazzle of my play acting, mystery stiffens…
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| Embellished my gilded embarrassment…
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| Must i dwindle in the pixie fine light heart of pageant…
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| Decay… decay…decay…
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| Fair self you taunt the plush maternity of legend…
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| It is yours to extinguish…
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| It is yours to endear…
|
| Pretend… the night sky
|
| The interpretive day
|
| Disguise… forced, so devout and rarely felt…
|
| Perspective… dripping with a masterless man…
|
| Deceptive pleasuring want… so genuine…
|
| I’m desire the incredible beggar, warm in and of my costume…
|
| We lay and touch legs for flesh pedaling…
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| For tortures of queens and the staffs that make them whole…
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| Appreciate the cruelty is why…
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| Guilt a censor becoming… of broadaxe and blood spray…
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| Wish is choice hollow… obey…
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| Our war is but to entertain
|
| You see me close them catch light and… pulse through stone
|
| Heave for me and my bosom… your weird prostitute…
|
| Hold them deep… capturing breaths…
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| Among a one shall never hunger in the vile of savage bath again…
|
| To this i give all to one… to have…
|
| My pieces… shrieking stolen… fallen…a flicker in craze… passing away
|
| In fulfillment it did roll… and it was shed…
|
| Clenched forgiving about its hilt… they
|
| The iron life’s work tears still through…
|
| Clean through… deadly…drove into the wood block…
|
| A gash gathers… the muscle… the bone… the severed…
|
| Halts and forms a pool to end in… and it flows…
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| And one tear falls… in the silence they are wide open…
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| Empty and still giving… |