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Your Touch Versus Death

Eyes of celibates, burning images worn down rotted lies

Lips dried peeling, eyes separate our lives dead underneath your skin

This blood's not mine, you fucking whore, you don't deserve my gods

You're a deified angel, you leave me sickened in prayerIt's the residing disease in me that sheds its halos for whores

It leaves my wrists cut with jaded tongues

Your eyes freeze my fire of innocence, whores addictions, souls salvation

I said it, I'm so tired, so saddened, I'm no cowardPlease bury me, they broke my wings in an attempt

To divide a sickness from comfort of open wounds

Wide eyed I died

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