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The Mist of Your Glory

Light has no time,
nor is there any sweetness from a lime.
The salty dead snails of hate is more suger coated then youll ever be.
The way you out think me,
the more you refrain my steps,
the more you captivate my very breath.
There is no sense of telling you,
my dear love,
that I am a shadow in the mist of your glory.
You have seen my work put to shame,
ah but it is a curse to say your name.
So here I am crying,
screaming a curse but you could not answer me
with a few simple words.
You continue living like kings
well I shall perish it would seem
Im not as royal as many queens.
Speak to the broken crown of denile.
Then taste my vengence with a smile.





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