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I stand

Stand on the high ground

The victim of

Your disease,

I watch

Watch with a glass eye

As you destroy

What you once made,

I see

See with perception

The jealousy

That you deny,

My limbs

Limbs you have shattered

That held you once

In my heart,

Your hands

Hands of destruction

That turned from me

On a whim,

I fall

Fall on my own sword

A victim of

Your designs,

I cry

Cry as the guns sing

A broken shell

To breath no more.

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