Have I found you Saint of my past?
I sense the demon of my present,
And I fear the ghost of my future.
My thoughts are wicked,
And gestures cruel.
Get out of here, and leave me alone.
I'd rather feel this pain,
then nothing at all.
But its worse than the fires of your hell.
The darkness of this corner,
leaves me torn and broken.
I collapse in a puddle of regrets, and sorrow.
Have I lost you?
Lover of my past,
Angel of my present,
Entity of my future?
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