It's so bright here. It's Probing my mind, Blinding lights. Pricking for excite.
Cold dead metal. Figure's all around. Mark of glory. Seeking what they found.
Will I come back from this? Will I come back right? Will I be myself? Or someone of flight?
Muting, Yet loud. My language. With no sound.
Transform, They said to me. I beg, Set me free.
Will I come back from this? Will I come back right? Will I be myself? Or someone of flight?
I'm not myself. I'm not me. Who to become. Is yet to be seen.
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Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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