My memory is a wasteland,
I’ll say this phrase aloud and reanimate your corpses.
Among the dead I can still see your faces,
They’re reminiscent of a time I still mourn.
Looking at you all now, you’ve changed into something special;
Creatures of vacancy and unfamiliarity that reside in this desolate realm.
My memory is a weapon
I’ll stare down the barrel and revel in your love.
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