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The HollowIts always easiest to just give inWho really cares what happens in the end?Well then, I guess courage is something only heroes haveAnd again and again, I lay wonderinWhy every time I stand, it gets a little harderDays go bySame old linesNo one seems to noticeNo one seems to careAbout a lonely childBut neither do INot since this needle made everything alrightI dont cryBecause I dont feel them anymoreCant feel anything anymoreI wont hurt ever againNow they stare at meCause Im so thinBeen starvin for awhileBut I just smileBecause it doesnt matterNot to them, not to meJust lookin for a little more relief
A Brutal MemoirA BRUTAL MEMOIR I remember well that fateful Winter's eve, when I happened upon a stranger in the woods. It was during a Hunter's Moon, full and bright and beautiful against the cold night sky. All the forest was tingling with its mysterious energies, and not a creature slept. All about us the trees groaned and rustled, shaking the dust from their ancient limbs and harboring countless eyes, a glow in the deep shadows of their boughs. The cries of mice and fowl chanted in the air so frigid, that it threatened to shatter like glass in my lungs; the scream of a mountain lion raced up my spine as if it were the stroking right hand of Death, come to make his acquaintance. Yet amidst the chorus of Nature's perilous moonlit struggle, so still was it in that clearing, the step of my boots on the frozen ground echoed loudly and harsh to my ears. His skin was chill and torn, having been ravaged by wild animals and left for dead in the cold, condemning darkness. Oh, how I had looked