Fine Line - Ikon



Absence is my religion

Foray my words do speak

Torn from my own incision

This day forever bleak



I stand in my own pity

I crawl upon it's face

I feel I am a victim

For madness I can taste



Sometimes I think of me

Sometimes I think of you

But most of all I know

What more now can I do



It all must pass to reason

It all will fall from grace

And now in my obsession

It leads to such a waste



Confronting my horizon

It leads me cold and fray

To touch will end in treason

For this I cannot pay



Sometimes I think of me

Sometimes I think of you

But most of all I know

What more now can I do



It all must pass to reason

It all will fall from grace

But now in my obsession

It leads to such a waste



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