Miracle plays in life were the plays that never happened. Getting into the false hope that life would get better, we decided to go with the flow and let time heal our bruises scattered all over our soul as a materialistic temptation and hate. Actually, those bruises were the inevitable ones, I remember. Death and bruises in the soul are alike, at least for me. In the aforementioned case, I had known I would be left bruised and have my heart trampled sooner or later. Then, the pain strruck suddenly, without a warning. Just before the death, I remember killing everyone around me for my inner peace. I can never go to heaven.
I was a kid I would write and they would laugh like that devil from bible in human form hiding two horns behind their conceited smirk or so I had thought I grew up I started to laugh along with them Today, I laugh alone Then, I wanted to write better so, I would look up to someone Today, I do the same So this is not me writing but bit by bit compiled words of all the legendary artists I have studied Those Horrific nightmares I've experienced has nothing to do with it
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