Oh hello there strange, foreign, friend...
How lovely to bump into you again.
The night has fallen and your shadow is all that I see,
It could be a mirage, or the shadows of a tree...
Your touch is still cold, as it was when you left,
when you failed me, and kicked me, while I was down and out of breath.
I'm weary to fall into your death grip again,
For I lost myself, my sanity...
Foreign is probably the best to remain,
Although sin and sanctity scatter my brain.
I am sick, more sick than I have been in a while
...
Just to let you know,
in case the night unveils the sun,
My body is withering away,
until I'm finally undone.
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