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For the night we solemnly bleed

Reading crying sobbing

can you feel the cold

You are so numb you can only feel the cold, you are dead

Can you hate the unliving, or even the undying?

What impowers us past the decieving?

Maybe the burn with in.

Can you beleive what you see?

Watching the dead angel bleed like the dead in serinity.

Can you  feel the power?

The one in which you have control,

We are all living in a dead world.

or are we?

We are dead