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plea
Black roses and hail Mary
What's left to be found
Thunder echoes and hail rain down
While I'm left to dig my own grave
I reach to the sky and call out your name
But to no avail
I'm left to rot on this earth
A literally piece of living hell
Nothing is left but a hollow shell
I soon realize heaven is to far away
I only wonder if anyone can here me
Can they hear my plea
Is there a place left in paradise for me
© Arcane
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