My cold feet walk up to the balcony in the dead of night.
I smell, solitude misunderstood as freedom.
The mind is not drunk but is still going through the
hangover.
Eyes can see the stars above
and hear a demoniac laugh
As the harsh wind blows on my face, I am awaken.

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The rustling of leaves, the whistle of the wind,
The moon shining bright and the howling cold breeze.
It made me anxious and I felt a twitch,
It made me ponder, it made me think.
When everything goes right, when everything goes mercifully, 
There comes this slightest of doubt, this ambiguity.
Is everything really fine, is everything really glee, 
Or are we the mere puppets, pretending it playfully?

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In that cold raging night,
He rose above the tides
Defeated all his demons,
Brought an end to the fight.
What name did he have?
The mighty symbol of strength
No one knows about him,
As he was never seen again.
I’m searching for this hero,
Who can save me from myself
For I am just a host of,
The parasite that dwells…

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