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‎Friday, ‎October ‎10, ‎2014

To purify my inner soul
There is a place I go
To bury my guilts alone
But all I can see is above
Beside angels along, ghost marching
Victimizing my sagacity severely
And so I question my breathing
Is this living or dying
Cause I feel nothing but irony feeling
Like the sweetness dissolving in misery
I search hell in beauty.

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