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Bereft of his blooms The last cruelty of pride remains, stained his appereance invading all those still lines andspikes his hope with boredom sinking in thousand petals shrinking in a wounded smile.

Like a garden fed by a guilty sun So harmeless we burn, in lifetime pantomine.
Like a heart lost in the rushes, fading fast through our eyes.

Besieges in an embrace keen like pain Staging all our repertory of grey…

Feeling so clean and clean….

I saw u wore in despire And fill sharping greed,

with no shade to perceive just soft tone parade.

From a nocturnal Languor shine,mould a whorely pity spurn.

From a lover deprived of love Into a canvans of blame…

And pride is lowered In index turn

In ths slice of void Envying the generosity of life

With the opium breed is just what remains us.

As you feel the twist in the shadow of a splintered heart Through your closed eyes,

in the fear of oblivion crippled by compassion,

eyes sore from frustration, beliefs buckled under distortion, in the echoes ofa pumping heart

in the echoes of his shatered blame

Feeling so clean and clean….

Text přidal Seraph


Bleeding Womb of Ananke

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