Azazel

Where Shadows Weep For Men

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Ripped down piece by piece
Old life crumbles in your hand
I feel deceased
No burn no sickness how surprising is ok
Dont look at me i am shamed i wear my letter
You piont your finger never good enough
Never get up weak like sand and ask your tearing me down
The ache in my back the burn in my legs
Your sight burns me
I feel no more it said you only die once lies filthy lies