Though the dagger rocks pin to the ground with cold embrace,
There's but one life in the seeping saggy hills,
Outcasts from the normal world the shivering waves take hold of the land,
Quarrintined in a silhouette cage in the astranged valley,
Spikey piles of bad stuck between the peaceful trees,
Embroided rocks lying alone,
Nor does life take too this riveted lake it leads it into the overinduced sea of today,
But it knows that its pure entities will keep it from the shadows of tommorow,
The same its been since the time of the lost,
Texture of lives taken into the violent fight for justice,
The lake stays still whilst moving,
You don't know if it's right what you see you don't don't know if it's true,
Thus the element of mystic pebbles scattered across the drab floors.
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