Bullets pierce my skin,
blood string down my lips
punishing me for the sin
of being the light of eclipse.
My voice slowly fades,
the world stops to spin
giving a vision of shades
of all the fears I had within.
I hear angels playing lyre,
I see my own constellation,
but I don't feel the heating fire...
It's not my final destination,
there's no place I want retire
for I still have some inspiration.
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