Silently Awake

Norse

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The ritual of odious worship takes place once again.
Dwelled upon are the times of indulgence and flesh.
Coccooned i am, in a world where logic has no weight.
Too many days spent silently awake.

My souls incarcerated in a flame worn cage.
Your flesh is succulent, while mine decays.
My sense of righteousness defiled by my destructiveness.
Forever the odds are against my escape.

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Ropes tighten around my limbs.
Air is beckoned from my lungs.

This is my adversity, my affliction,
My comprehension of life's decisions.
I'll soldier on, into the wilderness,
Forever haunted by my sickening tenderness.

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