Makiladoras

The masses

Makiladoras
In this embrace, a burning purity cleanses the spirit when the flesh must sleep. These eyes are those of the masses, they see thru those of the dead.
The prophecy painted in blood, "you will rot if you sacrifice the bread for your beleif".
(faith) Rise [devotion] and burn them all. One sun in this cold sky, unforgiving and unlovung.
A farewell kiss for a priceless time.
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