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In my funereal journey
Through the morbid woods
I sought wisdom in the solitude of my being
With my soul lost in time
I sought to satisfy my existential need
In the lost memories of my past
Not the displeasure of having his face
His voice, his lies in my mind!
Driven by hatred for his hypocrisy
Destined to wander in the torture of his thoughts
For his choices, seeking revenge for a tormented soul
I follow my journey, hoping to see his death, and by my hands
