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this was not written while on drugs
Fractured faces apperaring  from the back of my mind
 Identities of piercing eyes the world will never find
 Reminiscing of past lives I bind myself to
 Even when the moments through, its apparatus stays
 All lives fade but shadows can still cast shade
 I created this body from charisma and hate
 Though afflictions bound my soul in a destructive crate
 But at this rate of self decay, may I live or die today
 A conscience stuck in the fray of hell and salvation
 Leading to the creation of an internal paradox
 An angel with locks on potential dealing with demons determined to be detrimental
 An internal demonstration of the cause of the earth’s immortal battles
 Shackles hell and heaven to fight to an end
 To rend humanities existence the last means to a beginning

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