Portrait

Chalice

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    Do I only have conviction
    When my opinion lives in isolation?
    Is this portion of reality
    A frail and tangential foundation?

    Who mapped the course
    To this quizzical, grotesque junction?

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    I can't romanticise these demons anymore
    I can't serenade another empty balcony
    I can't endure one more eve on this fetid ship
    With the insincere bounty of a mutinous soul

    The machine grinds ever on
    With a radiance perceived by wretched eyes
    That lead me home again when I'm blinded
    By the truth within my lies

    I can't romanticise these demons anymore
    I can't serenade another empty balcony
    I can't endure one more eve on this fetid ship
    With the insincere bounty of a mutinous soul

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