Through the eyes of the dead

With eyes ever turned inward

Through the eyes of the dead
An image of me beneath my grave what's gone wrong this time just a step away from the dead silence bleeding in my head I found the corpse of my conscience locked away
I'm speaking in static and pain but the faces do not respond to the se things
I saw as I was crawling through the broken glass of my thoughts I realized that I hate most everything I stand beneath my grave
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