Untitled work of art or is it work of war?
Drew a line in the sand, the monster followed my soul
Ran and ran woke up screaming the monster by my bed
All my twisted thoughts and cannot bring myself to say it
I love this monster, really I do. He's mine.
I've grown with him so go get your own
I try to battle, but fight is futile he's won. Always and Forever.
One of us must die; I fear it'll be him.
Then he'll know peace and I'll be all alone
So here I am on this early morn trying to decide
Am I an act of war or a work of art?
Book of Elsa
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