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The Times in the Trenches.Feeling and reeling from the sickness inside,you run for cover for the bullets somewhere come.When you find it finally after being stuck in the muck.We enjoy a tiny sanctuary of peace and silence,just to go running out again to force compliance.Then give a kiss on the cheekright on the bruise we left last week.You know you have ran into a wall againjust to fall into the shadow of depression.Lets climb over that wall and just walk on the edgeand show the world what we got.
The Suicide Silence.Feeling the creep as the life goes slow and expands away,You feel the release as the blade pierces the skin.Is it today or later that you will finally fall,You think you will be free but only in disease.They will and wonder why it was that nightyes that dark deep silence that you thought it right.As they grab the body they see you with no one there,a empty shell that was once your happy face.You few sitting there who have done it or are thinking to take it todaythink of the ones who will clean you up.Their despair and pain from your so called release.