A dead man’s wish


He who lies in the cold depths of the underground
He whose twilight is the pale of his skin
He whose ears are dead to all sound
He who doesn't recall where he's been

In no movement he finds peace
He is now the definition of quiet
Like the bitter of the Morello
He is mortified, hurt angry

He silently wishes now
He dreams of nothing
If only he knew how
He could wish for something

He is a dead man but he wishes
He believes there is a lot he will unleash
Being alive, is a dead man's wish

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