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Burning Scars

I can not paint, the saint to colors - In the skies of the butterflies - I am lost in a field, i am standing in corn - I feed my blood to the spoils on the battleground, i am dead to the unborn - I see silver in the moon, i am black to her back - I lookout of my window, i am in lifes prison without bars - My arms are bound, my wrists are bleeding. although my wounds are healed, i am burning with scars - My world on fire in the tornado of rain, my turmoil of thunder is the depth of my pain

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