Days by 12012
Days... tommorow... end... despeir...
Inside the cellar room the angel bearing wounds is
caught
Shaking, frightened those wrists bear chains
Inspecting the silvery white tears flowing into the
palms of my hands
I refuse and deny the false words of reality
These crying personalities exchange kisses
Tomorrow, I wonder if it will clear up? Rain followed
by cloudiness followed by rain
Soon I'll sleep, soon I'll hold you until this field of
vision closes
slow in the Merry go round
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