The making of my fate.

Hurts and evades of any peace that could be examined. Pains and lurks my thoughtful signing. I am a sufferer, stress occurs as the myriad, it's the greatest attack on my conscious.
To be a child was sober and cute, I had thought, it was about being an adult, That life was to make any influence, Little had I figured, How I were to be taken as a trash, In the name of honour, It's an unjust equation that sets out to be.
My life's many rights, Are being taken away, Like; a blanket pours over me, Covering my dreams.
This life may, dwell deep into it's illumination; When I shall seek abode for my journey's destiny. I shall be not seen around anymore, I shall have gone away forever long. This is my newest secret, When while living, I shall be made an unknown.

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