Believing I'm keen I build my wall
So that through other's eyes I won't fall
Though now even my enemy is my overseeing dean
Due to this misconceived smoke screen
Like the blinded Saul I have not anyone to lean
As I'm devoured by my craze
Yet stuck in this maze I'm not sure if it's just a phase
Because I can no longer gaze at another way
When within my unfathomable walls I think I'm protected,
But can I be resurrected if I can't even be detected
I suffocate, deteriorate, under my own key deceit
Of what it would mean if someone could locate the real me
Redefine that intertwine of the fake seal
Would they take me to that hill and heal me?
Or would they just go ahead let myself kill what's left of me?
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