I don’t know this face, this voice, or this need.
That clarity is gone, vacant and shallow…
…in this pool of long-forgotten simplicity.

This isn’t what I had in mind, when all was lost,
when all ceased to exist and the fire inside…
…simply died.

No torch worth burning burns an hour,
rather a lifetime with everlasting fuel…
…fueled by passions and the foundations of sin.

Most torches are long since passed,
in the past where they belong to rise…
…to rise up to the surface once again.


Tell me when you think.

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