End Of Time End of Time I cannot accomplish wind a way around, Searching high besides dropping low, Fighting where the soul wont go. In the world, a adulterated ghost, Hoping for his bad most, Tears away the well-fixed views, As golden dreams atomic number 18 shatte ruby-red too. The ghosts tell stories of solely who came - Dead, alive, blind, and lame. What he said I did not like, An un profane strive will destroy the night, cleanup position all with goddam might. Down the tunnel of the soul, Broken finger cymbals and blackened personal line of credit Consume the land and all who roam, splitting apart these earthly places As the tears run from their faces.
Their faces argon bruised and blackened beat, unclothe scourged From the heat. Gnashing teeth and thrashing claws, Ripping the children with their paws. The eye are red and soaked with pain. No hope, all lost, nada remains. The worlds are turned, amidst, betwixt, Mans positions are surely switched - The blind can suck up the shado...If you fate to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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