I may sound unreal,
I may seem dead,
But this world of various sins,
Is where I make my bed.
My blood flows real,
And my heart charred black,
My sense too morbid,
For the world to grasp,
A difficult person to digest,
Not easy to swallow,
My life seems full,
And my existence hollow.
[Cluster I]
I may seem dead,
But this world of various sins,
Is where I make my bed.
My blood flows real,
And my heart charred black,
My sense too morbid,
For the world to grasp,
A difficult person to digest,
Not easy to swallow,
My life seems full,
And my existence hollow.
[Cluster I]
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