Remote
The angel of circumstance has fallen to the feet of pain
While everyone is surrounding the edge of destruction in the mist of strain
Eyes clouded by one and only desire that rest onto the brain
Only to keep the scar of death and the blood stain

To never believe is to never have loved and to see the settlement of hate inside
There is no one there anymore, no heart, no dreams, no pride
To fight in death, out and for-there is no line, you stand on neither side
To never hold one single gasp of hope and to keep it in and that you have not tried

To win the endless seas and the oceans, the land of man and the land of life is to fall
To fight and fight for nothing, to wish to yourself is not brave, gallant, nor tall
You cannot change the will of emotion threw the brain nor can you change life at all
To scream to death and the wrong of pain than to yourself, you call

In a single cut you will bleed endlessly for you cut your own throat
To never give, you cannot receive and upon the kill you gloat
And in your dying hour, the lasting of your life-you’re life is without vote
To keeper’s choice, whom clipped the angel-you are remote
Lex
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