Thru years of rivers known in Angels dust blown to widen the eyes of few, I've hated the soul that claims the thrown winds of lies bellowed as truth. Where your regard is of a dream that discards the joker to play the game unsewn, You lie to yourself as

Thru years of rivers known in Angels dust blown to widen the eyes of few, I’ve hated the soul that claims the thrown winds of lies bellowed as truth.
Where your regard is of a dream that discards the joker to play the game unsewn, You lie to yourself as you hide
What’s dealt yet all cards are counted and known

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