Distance decreases as if time is a dying cockroach
Plagues enclose
Sitting upon this wooden bench, I am helpless to billions of bullets
In this moment I am helpless
Why is it so difficult to see ourselves?
No poem I've wrote, Nor song I have sung, can halt the army of wrath
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In this moment I am helpless
Serpents will transform into mice only to drown in the deepest red
I've always expresses my thoughts in colors, but we remain blind
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