Thing

Who needs this unapproachable thing?
This lost and pointless thing?

I see him crawling into his inner-grave.
Shameful, he becomes a inner-slave.

How dare he think of himself,
Who needs this disappointment?

I predict the worst of winds,
I know his demon wings.

No-one needs this unapproachable thing.
This lost and pointless thing.

The End

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