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dark days
Cycles around heads, rage leading your desires for ages
high points build by despise, rudders with intentions unguided
maybe it wasn't meant, maybe you confuse justice with revenge
there's no peace in combat fronts, war always was your law
this hustle battle is freezing my bones, your strength is more settled than society distinctions
no accident can excuse the broken windows, the mortal consequences will follow you, even after your fall
Some rewards can't afford the sacrifices that you have to make, you need to be clever if you want to fake
I can lower my guard, destroy my self defense if you tell that your missiles aren't my own shit
I wonder if the blood covering your hands could be seen on the victory photos
Some rewards are nothing compared to the chaos needed to make, you'd feel nauseating in the top
© marsea