i just might carve it in my skin so there is no mistaking it might tear the walls down with my hands if there is time i might spend every night just drinking it might be my mistaking it i might never stop the flame from burning so i ask myself again why do i let this roll my way as if i have a chance to change it fears: can not read them from escaping: might be all i have progress: do i need this from expanding i can never stop i can't stop to let myself wither but i can dream of an answer i won't stop to let myself wither so i fight this plague
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