Our tormented souls
Twisted and distorted in so many ways
As if writhing over hot coals
Will we ever be so until the end of our days?
Here’s the deal
For those broken on the wheel
Thoughts frozen in time
The fare costs you a dime
To cross the river
That makes you quiver
Whither there is no return
All around you seems to burn
A very high cost
Those opportunities lost
What was valued in the past
Did not last
Get it through your head
You are dead
You recall when you wed
That makes you see red
But it is too late
To cling to your hate
Condemned now to haunt the coast
As a lonely ghost
On dark nights you appear as a wispy spectre
Who was once named Hector
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