My arms are silver wings that tastes blood during the race.

The memories of second waltzing towards the tower of my ideals.

How many beasts must I slaughter in order to achieve the thorns?

How many ants must crawl to realize the height of reality?

God is upon our memories. Luck has wings for a reason.

But as they cater to the demonic,

I will watch in two.

The very two that has helped my vision.

-CMCrain

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