Pointless: the worlds ways.
A million hours, and a thousand days.
A ticking clock is the heartbeat,
of people, in there greatest time of defeat.
I have looked threw the hourglass.
How funny is the pattern of patterns?
Mirrors and hearts hold one purpose:
WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE WE?
Held captive to long,
my mind restrains all sense of hope.
But I’ll make you the prisoner.
It’s now time, the next 40 years, you will sit and watch.
Reestablish honor in ones heart.
Realign the sails, for the storm is here.
Wash the blood off your hands, it can be done.
For the great one, is near.
FOREVER, we shall put that idea to the test.
I seek a glorious kingdom in which all, soon shall rest.
Dead men seek graves.
But I, seek the will, I seek the will.
-By Chris Cameron
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