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Weak altars break.

(With a tear)

Inside memories old.

Divide the sounds below.

I close my eyes.

But still they follow.

Spirits sleep in the cracks.

In the air – of my confession.

The wounds wet.

Poverty – death’s fingers.

Magister dimensions.

Suffering cracks and kneels.

Denounced vocal chords.

Rot in the waters of heaven’s blood.

My prayers only linger.

These prayers only linger.