A blissful isolation,
never boring.
The continuous walls of grey is the only thing needed,
to keep me in line,
confident,
myself.
Eternally content,
the air's silence almost sings through me.
The awakening,
a stabbing of knives,
destroying your nowhere,
your paradise.
Oh holy mother,
reveal your paradise once again,
as i pray once again,
every time the outside calls.
Return me to your grey rapture,
the silent circus.
















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Tell Me You Still Believe
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