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Dark Messiah
In the spreading darkness, I exchange a pledge for revolution with myself. In my deepest heart, there is an evil flower, sprouted from the purest love. The present is distorted in darkness, changing dreams into distorted realities. Why? Am I a broken messiah? All I want is to bring forth an ending that everyone can wish for. Darkness fills our world now, but someday, I will show you a new sky shining w light. But why do you fear me? Am I a broken messiah?
Face forward. Look towards the future that everyone has dreamed of, not back, towards the fiery ruin on which it is built. Judgment, prattling on about the generalization of crime, is a figure of destruction. Can anyone break this cycle of corruption? A world of acquittal, where prophets speak words of sanction, fills this land of crumbling edifices. Compensating for vice with games of law, a crimson hued song of destruction is ripped from every throat. How long has it been since we last laughed freely, trapped in a civilization half-made of noise?
Do you have that which was buried by society, that light the darkness fears, yet holds so dear? The earth is all astir in a chain of destruction. Fragments from the mirror of an evil mind, saturated with copper-scented blood, cast forth twisted illusions of a world, but which one is truth? We see, but do not act upon, the urgent murder of an innocent sinner—above us is the battleground of a dark funeral for Truth.
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