You Think That You Know
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He who seeks vengeance;
he with no hope of repentance;
he who sleeps on cold ground;
he who creeps making no sound.
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He who hides in the shadows;
he who lives in the forest of hallows;
he who gathers by the moon at midnight,
he who seeks shelter from morning light.
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Oh, he is a man too,
but not as me and you.
Oh, but he is a being, live like you and me,
in spite of the flaws, he has that he cannot see.
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He who glares stares and glowers;
he who avoids the sun like rain showers;
he who long for a dark veil above the land,
he who stays trapped in time's memory sand.
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He who fights with cold in his heart;
he who's been broken and torn apart;
he who holds fears and feared he is;
he who isn't alone to blame for this.
Oh, he has character, personality,
and feels tired, ruined lonely.
Oh, he too is with little hope and trust,
for we've made his faith rot and rust.
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He who battles hopelessly outnumbered;
he who remains forgotten never remembered;
he who loves only to end up being hated;
he who has an unlikely hunger to be sated.
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He who has lost time and time and time again,
he who has seen deaths of women and of men.
He who has wandered around with nothing to find,
He whose losses we will constantly, cruelly remind...
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Oh, there is so much to his story,
so much we will never know for which we'll never worry.
And really, we should feel sorry
for someone who knows more sorrow than we'll ever carry.
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You only think that you know,
but do you really?
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-vMv-
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Blaming Fun
It is a smile he spreads,
though winter everyone dreads; overlooks.
I think what really spooks
is the cold within nooks and frost
through which lives are often lost.
But that's sometimes the cost we pay
to live a single day
on the edge of the fray for fun.
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