I know life as it is,
Motionless as it always is.
I know how it bleeds, screams, dies excessively.
But just one question,
Should I kill...
Or should I be killed?
Im sick and tired,
Of all these complaints.
Crave for hate,
One insignificant,
Irrelevant.
Whisper nothing in this world,
It traces like grains of sand.
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