It will end.
Hope has already died, along with my faith.
With my ignorance, and strength.
My other self has died, and it's time for me to go with.
I am merely a shell, living day by day.
For my inside, knows It'll end.
I try, but whats the point, and who will care?
My heart will loose it's beat, and all my work
amounted to nothing.
Memories if me will eventually die too.
They will cry, but let my death go.
They will go to, and I never was.
Since I never was, you never knew that it has
end.
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