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This life shows no mercy, |
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selfish emptiness and death is all it offers. |
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There is a place where I want to wander, |
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a place without confusion. |
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A place where I gain control over the nothingness. |
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The nothingness that devours my pitiful soul. |
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Suffocating my will to be alive. |
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The hollowness screaming in my face, |
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not leaving regardless |
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of how loudly I scream back. |
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The voice reminds of my worthlessness. |
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I know despite the lies is speaks the truth. |
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I live, although in some way I'm dead. |
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My struggle in neither against human flesh and blood, |
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nor against the forces of the unseen world. |
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The battle is my own, and my strength fades, |
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I carry myself on my shoulders. |
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Inner peace cannot be found in this physical world. |
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A man can live his whole life with pleasure |
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but when life has reached he end of the line |
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you must ask yourself what purpose life had. |
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Over and over the lies shatter my thoughts. |
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Was I meant to live here on the brink of madness? |
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I pass it on to You. |
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There is a place where I want to wander, |
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a place without confusion. |
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A place where You are in control. |
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There is a name I whisper over this dark ocean, |
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a name that gives me peace. |
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(1 Pet. 1:18-19) |