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You cleaved me open And left my sun-bleached ribs Scattered Across the shores of our youth. There, by the sea, I gathered sea glass with which to build my home –
She sits upon her broken throne, Crying out “is it worth it anymore?” The pain of life tearing her apart Sometimes being alive breaks her heart
A predetermined gathering One in heaven, the other earth Many voices answering Great noises call forth He is there in both places
Humpty Dumpty was never an egg Humpty Dumpty made people beg Humpty Dumpty sat on the throne Humpty Dumpty had never atoned All the starved horses and all the starved men
"Stretched across me was a spark of lightening, One touch that tore me to pieces. What was it, I did, for him to derail my mind across these broken eyelids. I gave it my all,
Let me tell you a story, Fantastic as can be, It's about a perfect man, He who died on a tree. It was not a hanging, that's far from true, It's called a crucifixion, and He died for me and you.
Death, is a jealous fellow he has no age, grace, nor liking it considers not woe, nor sorrow he displays a complete arbitrary arrival he does not consider survival and lingers with denial
The river embraced its one true form To travel its depths through hail and storm. Through the village and through the town Through the kingdom that once was crowned.