I'm no longer a blind innocent.
I've seen the pain,
I've watched death take it's toll.
I've died and lived again,
Been loved and hated.
I've been wanted and resented.
I've wished for death
And I've begged for life.
I watched my friends burn,
And I've walked in the fire for them.
Love has perished at my feet,
And grown in my arms.
But still, are we left so cold
And so lonely.
Is there any sympathy for the dead?
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