ego

I will feast on everything
Adorned the wreath offered to me
Little trees stock the mountain scenes
The distance sings of a life waiting

On the sofa
Lashing out your blood
I can feel the weight of your conscience dropping
From the secularity

I will scream at the scary things
I'll relieve all the heavy strings
I will piece the mystery
I will sleep on the inaccuracies
Of these words I leave behind

I



Credits
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