Caught in the jaws of greed, consumed by our need to feed. No savior hears our rapture call only pain and death before the fall. The itch that power could never scratch, the pains of hatred biting back. You see the void; you hear its call, now your throne must see its fall. Pleasures turn to pain (to pain), each lie carried a weight (a weight). Your screams construct a symphony drenched in obscene majesty.
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