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This soul sings the song of an innocent child
Captured by Hades and returned wild
A result of his own reckless deeds
Inspired by fortune and fame, driven by greed
Failing to return to innocence, he pretends
Hiding under the spotless wings of family and friends
With an alluring hiss, critics he mocks
His character cunning as that of a fox
Countenance so serene, plain and open
Yet yonder his skin, rotten
The guilt of deception backs him into a corner
Knowing nothing else to do, he becomes a loner
Sits in the dark all day to plan and think
His ideas are conceived by loneliness, born of paper and ink


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