Widowed to his love of the world

The isolation left scars upon his will to learn
Every bridge intentionally singed to the point of no return
Organs cackle like cinder as ashes fill the urn

A worm addicted to bittersweet asphalt burns left his nervous system shaking
Toads in the cauldron choke down a potion of awakening
Toxicity seething, your pressence is suffocating
Nothing matters but escaping I refuse to become your plaything

It’s too bad to be untrue
I’m falling in hate with you


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