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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