That whore dawned a crown of thorns, oh she's bleeding from the mind
she must be losing oxygen, for through the smoke, shes lost her sight
blind, she's playing victim, the cowards way of life
dilated pupils, blurry imagery from a beautiful world
she numbs herself from reality, mind melted, she'll never be the same
in her own head, she's fighting, rebelling against-
the ones she was supposed to love, although it never quite made sense
her senses dulled, diluted, her lifetime hollow, spent
problem after problem, pushed deeper into the skull
so-called life of hell, she has herself to sell, under the gaseous spell
she wishes for her palms to be dirtied, the same fashion as her wrists
nailed to the dead wood, crucified, though nothing truly exists
pound the nails unto her open palms
self inflicted pain, her self-compossed sympathy, symphony song.
feel sorry for her, not because she's right,
but because she's embarrassing herself, and everyone in her life
escape was my only option, not to be consumed but such self righteous customs
leave to love another
leave to love another
leave to love another day, another night
a night so bright
doing this, no matter the price
<3
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