A twisted sense of justice

A call of fate stumbling down in the dark The blurred line of codice, revenge and regret. What is this age of condemn Damnation to us all in a tounge of spice Who shall rise and end it all once and for all?

Copies of copies that will never end A cry for originality mumbled in the void of depravity What is next when everything that is stands as one No one left but us, in such empty world of life I want to cry Am I still me or are you me, who cries? who feels? I for once stand as another I do not care about my own insanity Since it is the only thing that keeps me as myself “Too weird to live, and too rare to die”, here I lay in the maws of madness

And this quoute is not of mine…