Sometimes I just can't help but see clearly. A vivid picture I find near me. Bad company behind me, a fine frontier I find finally. Vivacious and flushed with color, spacious with the capacity for the love of another brother, or maybe a sister. Mothered by Pain, suckled on the ecstasy of what humans find torturous. We flee not from the light, but what daylight always forewarns of. For as the night life we fight life, only in opposition to the proposition of hope. In truth, we've always seen through the lies and storm clouds. But as the greatest cowards, we can't see past the breaking point. When spirits and imps invade every waking thought, when demons are friends and deities are profane; this is the turning point where the sun rises before your eyes.
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