Waiting To Die
When you look upon an ancient mirror, you see a reflection of your fear.
You smell the ash, you feel the pain.
You hear the screams, you smell the rain.
The dampness of the moon held high,
begging for you to die.
I only have one thing for you to know.
A secret passed on generations ago.
A secret so vast, and dire, and true.
It can only be told straight to you.
There is more to this world, there’s more to these lies.
There’s more to the life you claim to despise.
There’s more to the stars, and the heavens above.
There’s more to this hell, and the dirt you belove.
There’s more to the roads, and the cars that drive by.
There’s more to living than waiting to die.
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