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Faith is an illusion, an optimist's prediction, Unable to tell what's real from what's fiction, Happiness seems to be the tears I have cried, Self-slaying many times I've tried.
Surrounded by people yet all alone, Trapped within this desolate zone, A world where hate salute, Every bit of happiness that may try to elude.
What will it take to get me right, A visit from the devil on a cozy night, Angels prepare to battle and take a stand, To remind me of their sacred land.