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Loathe - Worm Shepherd
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Loathe Worm Shepherd

Loathe - Worm Shepherd
Clocks pelt forward
I remain stagnant in this chair, no sound, no sentiment
My colorless eyes locked to the mirror, reflecting the atrocity before it
Every last emotion conjured into a silent, motionless, and cold stare
The sun rises and the sun falls
Outer spirits howl with me in the fires below
Still I look into the glass
As suicide flows through my blood viscously churning
I begin to shake
Erase the sickness from the earth
I am undeserving, I am misfortune
I am undeserving, I am misfortune
The curser and the unwilling
Never to change what I’ve done, and I suffer the consequence eternally
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