Duplicates, illusions, and fire,
Despicable art that sings like a choir,
More water to pour on my wound,
Hoping to run into the soft ground.

All these seismic regrets,
Leads to a life of a marionette,
Golden teeth poke through the skin,
I’ll take my life for a nice little spin.

Millions of spikes cut deep,
My steps are too steep,
I walk like a million thoughts,
Thinking of all the missed shots.

 

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