I wait for oblivion to hold my arid hand. Deaf to its whisper, blind to its guise and I embrace what is to come. I wait for oblivion to grab me by the throat and take me home where forever is just another word for endless slumber.
There's no more strength to hold on to my vices any longer.
So let me fade away, just like the rest of them.
To hurt you was never my intention but I guess I was wrong in believing that it was worth it. Sometimes a lesson must be learned through actions of severity. But I guess I was wrong to be so selfish, to act like God.
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What might a band like Indian Summer or Native Nod sound like if they were thrashing around a 21st century basement? It could be something like this. Luke