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Bear The Poisons Of Time

by Wings Of An Angel

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The pale shadow of my former self,

A reflection of what used to be.

The brightness of my youth and health,

Now faded and hard to see.



My eyes once shone like stars above,

Now dimmed by time, lost their love.

The laughter that once filled the air,

Now replaced by a deep despair.


Once vibrant and full of life's embrace,

Now trapped in this nightmarish space,

A specter, cold and void of light,

Lurking, stalking through the endless night.



Eyes, once gleaming with hope and cheer,

Now hollow and filled with icy fear,

A visage twisted, distorted, and worn,

This wretched phantom, so forlorn.



Its voice, a whisper, echoes in my ear,

A siren's call, but one I cannot bear,

A cacophony of anguish and despair,

Leaving my soul in a state of disrepair.



Through mirrors and windows, it watches me,

Silent, patient, waiting to be set free,

A ghostly presence that claws and gnaws,

Feeding on my essence, shredding my flaws.



In every reflection, its presence grows,

The pale shadow that no one else knows,

A constant reminder of the darkness within,

The decay of my soul, tainted with sin.



I try to escape, to break its hold,

But its grip is relentless, never to unfold,

In dreams and nightmares, it dances and taunts,

A phantom that forever haunts.



Oh, how I yearn for the days of old,

When my spirit burned brightly, untold,

But now I'm condemned to this twisted plight,

Trapped in the pale shadow of my former self's fright.



So beware the whispers, the mirrors' gaze,

The creeping dread that never betrays,

For once you glimpse this malevolent elf,

You too may become a pale shadow of yourself.

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released July 2, 2023

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Wings Of An Angel Israel

My own identity feels like a construct, a collection of roles and personas worn like so many masks. Who am I, really?

Perhaps in the end, we are all just characters in someone else's novel, puppets dancing on strings we cannot see.
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