I’m feeling colder again, I’m losing feeling within. My eyesight’s blurry, I’ve lost all control. I’m angry, pissed off and cold. And I know, it’s all part of growing old. Every day, living life, I wasn’t made for this. Losing faith, losing hope, they always do what their told. But for me, life is so much more than gold. Like their gravestones, etch in the names john doe, but they will never know, but they will never know. I’ve tried and failed to succeed, but at least I’ve tried. And when my reflection gets the best of me, I cry out. Don’t fail me, don’t fail yourself. But I fail me, I fail myself. Shattered glass, and broken knuckles, the smell of blood and defeat. Standing there, broken and weak, my cracked face screams back at me. And so I push with nothing but these words before me, these words before me. “This is more than life and death. This is your chance to be free.” Free from apathy, free from animosity, free from society, your inner monstrosity. And this hole, in my chest, once opened, now fully closed. I am whole once again. I can breathe once again. I am whole, once again. I can breathe, once again. I can breathe again. I can breathe again.
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