Single, single.
We cannot break the eyes,
Into sharp shards,
And poke at others with blind
sighted,
Disguises and
compromises,
That we cannot actually
believe.
Believing that one day
someone,
Somewhere, in a land far
off,
Will strip us of our darkness,
And detonate the immense
happiness,
That always lingered
inside.
No, instead I see a
future of knives,
Raised with accusations,
When the cloaks of light
fall off.
I see the darkness
inside, finally,
Waiting like a lost
lover.
Another entity, but is it
meant for me?
Single by
Christian Gould
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