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Sorrow, carried on the whispers of many a tormented soul
Tired, searching souls, souls looking for nothing, finding everything.
Their sorrow infects us all.
None are free from it.
Turning the most optimistic into hopeless shells.
Shells of what was, what used to be, themselves.
The end is nigh. No. The end is here.
Sorrow leads nowhere but to death.
Cry, cry, cry.
Dry the tears or you may die.
- by Psychotic Meatball |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 11/20/2008 |
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- Title: Sorrow to The End
- Artist: Psychotic Meatball
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Description:
I wrote this little piece of crap while in a waiting room.
Note to self: do NOT ever try to write again.
A strange brew. Suck it. - Date: 11/20/2008
- Tags: sorrow
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