Is it me or is it fear, that makes me weep these tears?
the road ahead seered by the flame of hell, how long will this smoke last only time can tell.
This is a dream it cant be real, i'll tear out my heart so i cant feel; the pain im forced to endure, all my friends ensure; that its not the end; and that there's more, in store, restock my shelfless heart till im back at the start.
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Imagination
whatever i think of the "stuff journal".
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