Feel the shimmers, the embers of destruction Push the change and we open the gate quietly Ripening infatuations never elevate your ‘right’ reality Your final cue Your compelling torments are plain Six feet from the rest herding the pests This is a nest of preference reality Earth shapen When the nightmare is almost complete Six feet from the rest herding the pests This is a nest of preference reality Common sense, you have nothing to give away Asking you about the former species The deserters from the other realm Shady strings of manipulators Consolations for the ultimate collapse
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