acquitted instances erased.
remorseful uttering in place for my own happiness now entering
a bitter drought of meager doubt
whether my cloud blockade wears thin
or I've since clearly forgot where I've been My sinking repression of sin
has got me down again.
what good deeds come from within? be it not suggested once again from loud mouthed sobs whom raid out every thought with bare suggestion.
I've counteracted every vow
to ensure that I am now free from ones cold grasp.
why suppress a steadfast gasp to breathe another breathe of gas that would sooner lift me to my grave then to my feet?
when in crime we hold a key that exploits both you and me and cause our silence to be free of harsh recourse.
OH!
when one seldom seeks a line and would slip from time to time can our senses be divine to pure neglect?
we've all dug deep in our holes
sleep sweet sleep in our woes and lived life like no ones knows we've given in to simple vices.
so I submit to you my ache. and hope to one day soundly wake into a world devoid of meddlesome affairs and rotten grandeurs
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