Here she comes down, as her wings get nailed to the ground.
A polaroid of shame.
The last angel\'s pathetic fame.
The face of deceit with nails in her feet.
She\'s a preacher deprived from her voice.
A punctured lung is creating noise.
The cry that she made was the cry of a dying child.
The revocation of empathy.
The sound from a million dreams and scars.
Termination Bliss.
Blessed under a lie, Her last little weak \"why?\".
The bloody end of a dream.
Slit the throat and taste the cream.
She wears her crown on a head that\'s bowed deep down.
A dying picture of lies.
A tortured saint fed to the flies.
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