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corpse without heart
Not the kniefs,
nor the blooded hands,
but it was those scattred hearts that made her a walking corpse in the middle of diverging paths.
And now, all she does is to walk and walk and walk,
through the dead doors of bleeding skies
nor the blooded hands,
but it was those scattred hearts that made her a walking corpse in the middle of diverging paths.
And now, all she does is to walk and walk and walk,
through the dead doors of bleeding skies
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