All the faceless are faceless still,
All those hanging are on the hill,
All the living are dying too,
And if you look carefully you'll see straight through.
Deft remorse tears at her heart,
The end screams silently for the start,
The lonely catalyst demands its part,
And all along it tears her heart.
The prince of darkness cries tonight,
The deaf can hear him, the blind have sight,
Through the fire, demons take flight,
And the monsters cower from the light.
Are the faceless faceless still?
Are those still hanging on the hill?
Are the living dying too?
Are these all lies, is this all true?
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