The day so cold
Anger in our bitter words
Movements under the stars
Flowers shriveled up in the winter

Estranged wind of limits
Dull dreams left away
Hidden in the dust of clusters
Fooling sorrows

As if I’m a criminal I hide
Weightless parallels filled with aged ink
Even if my whisper becomes limited
It’s held up to an unrealistic silhouette

Foreign hands suffocating our bodies
Adorned with precious stones
Paradise, a major obstacle I want to erase
Dancing in the myriad of anguish

I’ll stay unfortunate in the shadows
This must be sad
We don’t want to be villains
Sadly, our morality is lost in ourselves

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