Then the sun has disappeared and unreachable
I appear myself, and the death spread it wings widely
And scream for helps, come over nicely
Bust and dust are being a words and world that I avoid the most
And the lost: well-spent of cost
There are good things falling to make me speak of the echoes
and the egos with the life’s decrees and dreams
The skies are breeding, and bleeding dropped these secrets
and I can’t hold the stars that burns inside my head
Then I just let me erase myself from the words through the night
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