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These corridors are lined with eyes

That see through mask and loose-worn lie,

And scrutinise our every breath

As we glide graceless to our death.

The hurt we leave upon a friend

Is nothing but a human trend,

To replace love with fear and hate

The basest of all Human traits.

And where is it we leave our mark

But burned into another’s heart,

Yet if we found it in our Will

In peace would we not leave them still?

Immortal souls which live in Hell

Surround us here on Earth do dwell,

And moving to a darker beat

In greed’s black hallways they will meet.

But souls which rise up from the grate

Their hearts to love and to create,

With selfless acts they seek to give

And burn out bright and truly live.

 

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