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coinToo late to close that door,
Cold wind will knock you to the floor.
Cold wind won’t let you go.
It’s not too late for you to know.
Confessions of a heartache.
Wounds of a heartbreak.
Coalescing in a sea of night terrors
All the while part of human errors.
Intricate passages lay in blood
Written for previous sections
But passed along in vain.
This is the pattern of dissection
This is the end in vivisection.
We’ll cut open the wounds
And lay bare the skeleton.
Humanity is the great creator
Humanity is also the great destroyer.
We are the flipside of the same coin.

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