Come with me and take my hand
I’ll show you the things you don’t understand
But I should warn you, the things you will see
Are neither illusion or fantasy
Quiet now, don’t you scream
As you see my knife’s cruel gleam
Though it will hurt and will not be quick
Please don’t say I’m twisted and sick
All I want is to set you free
Don’t say you’re not ready; you’re as ready as you’ll ever be.
Illusory
Beautiful fantasies
Longing for dreams
A labyrinth of desire
All is lost
Hope fades
Realization
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Chronicles of a Filandrythian
A mysterious red leather book, that seems to want you to read it.
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