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Go forth blindly,
Go forth and be hollow.
Make excuses.
Set those fires.
Lick that salt off your skin.

I can't find it in my hollow heart,
That sacred feeling you promised would be there.
All I found was bitterness,
And the pieces of every broken thing.

What an ugly gift a life of faith and servitude is.
Why are you so weak?
You can't behead invisible kings.
You're all just birds with broken wings.

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