I blew a kiss into the abyss and all I got was blackness back
It seems so cruel to let us bloom into these things that try to improve the cracks
Try open doors to archaic orchards
None of that, we’re realists.
Who are you to take their hope away?
I’m a saint in comparison, regardless of the arguments, no more cryptic messages, solid and opaque.
Lets all take an oath
To never getting old
Some things are best left unsaid, unheard
Your expectations bother me
Nothing more than endless sleep
If a saint were to disagree would you tamper with their faith?
I blew a kiss into the abyss
And all I got was blackness back.
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