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The thin line
You are always by yourself
In your eyes where I have never seen tears
there’s something like a bitter gleam
I like it

In your sightless imagination
this world is a wilderness for hunting
where you are a hunter in winter
always trying to close in on a single heart

You do not trust words
In your footprints as you have massacred every heart
I see a deep yearning for fear
I cannot stand it

Along the thin line you walk
the smell of blood sticks even to the snow
However far I move away from it
I can tell

You pull the trigger!
I die inside your words