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SadEyes

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Bronze Poet

Pseudo

Pseudo
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Porcelain faces haunt the depths of shattered eyes and construct catacombs for the genuine souls.

Relinquished tears smear the very life of hollow hearts who know not what to make of these manikin bodies.

How to be strong when society screws you over and manipulates your very will to be free?

More than just a mere marionette we are one; but how could this be truth?

When you see silhouettes of the devil haunt the innocent, the poor and the weak.

Are we the good? Or merely the arrogant people that do nothing more but watch as the devil does his rounds and causes mayhem among the merciless.

Why is it that we woo towards evil rather than good?

Evil woos us with temptations of power, destruction, beauty, and wealth.

Do angels of good exist? Does god watch over us even at the worst of our sins?

How to tell the lie from the truth when all we live, breath, and talk about are lies?

Speak the truth and only the truth…shall this be our greatest demise?





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