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letra de conquered discretion - numbered with the transgressors

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there is very little to sooth the soul
very little to comfort the rage
days blend together
and ruin the pallet
spitting hate onto a canvas of black
the cold calls me again
beckoning me into arms of despair
the savage nature of a fractured mind
cast into a world of the lifeless
few follow here
dwelling in tyranny over my mind’s eye
unearthing my regrets
preparing oneself for an unstable tomorrow
and a sheltеr denied
collapsing under еach day
refined in the torment
a calloused soul against a deceitful world

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