We've all heard stories,
Gazed at statues,
We've sang songs,
There's always at least one person,
Who makes us fight, till the last drop of blood,
has been spilled.
But sometimes we praise the wrong lord,
Graze at the crooked statue!
Most people walk with their eyes closed,
And the ones who see,
Get ignored by the masses,
Of blinded eyes.
Most people are broken, and fear the complete,
But the brave ones carry on,
Because they know...
That they're not alone.
They're not alone.

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