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Missa Defunctorum
praise the lost souls, it'll set yours free
my glowing morning dreams
we drift into a space,
protected from the light.

blind, we are.
sight? surreal imagination.

images dance, in your head,
cause you have no reason to look into a black abyss.

images of your life,
of truth,
of underlying meanings that are spelt out for you.

you have a sight,
so much more profound than the one you see with your eyes.

isn't that lovely?
you can see the ugly truth in every ******** lie.
(;

glad honesty is the best policy,
and i live by it day by day.
<3

btwwwwwwww;
i miss you ):





 
 
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