The Weak And The Wounded by Silverstein
The end begins.
I can't escape
as it pulls me further into anesthesia.
tear down my sense of conviction.
corrupt my soul.
the end begins.
in my eyes.
in my heart.
I have laid upon a deadman's bed,
only to fall into a trap of lies and seduction that rivals the greatest sense of love.
play it back
until the voice becomes just a sound.
penetrate my mind with all these images of you.
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