fulSin

No matter how thick the layer of Ice may be

Or how deep the lovely and kindness façade

The Flames of Hatred will always burn beneath

As I realize that the Oceans are Lava-made

So I wonder if anyone that looked within, would they see?

With macabre gait, dancing on the background of my gaze

Silent and sinister, my Beauty which shall wilt

Forever lost, forever fallen from the everlasting Grace

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