The unchained melodies enrich a mind
of abstract thinking with analytical thought.
As hovering darness blankets the tormented earth;bestills the mute crys of yesterdays.
Shadows dance on the walls and doorways as the puppets we become. A man a boy only perception can tell; lies distilled in the the mists of his resting place,the tiring day brought forth.
What illusion we set fourth in our minds the procrastination,excuses the eluded thought that in our judgment we stand alone. Angels laughing demons crying as our judgment been reached.the pages of life has no mercy or excuses,it is all on ourselves.
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