Slave to Hope

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It's a poem not a song.

I hear screams at the horizon
But everything is silent under my sun

Arms wide open as I approached like a moth
Accepting the light embrace of a woman I loathe

But the warmth defeated every thought
As I'm being slowly fed from my love drought

All words fly away, only her touch reigns
every ounce of my body affected by her stain

Her touch is tight, a prisoner is formed
Clutching at my light, my woman is deformed

Stuck in place, unable to change
I'm here as a disgrace, left estranged

The words kill but her embrace save
And by her words, I'm just a slave

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