The scent of a white world
(Perfect) appearing through rose colored glasses
Twisting, churning in the depths
To form a new world reality
(Of pain) Metaphorically speaking

Candy drops and poison
Twisted (it's lovely)
Attempting to drain the sorrow
Because it's not fun anymore
We all fall down

Incomplete of an intuition
Young and harrowed (the antiquities)
And of course the brevity of a whisper
Screaming into the years
Is it (evil)?

A bit too much (of nothing)
Careening out of control
Into silence (please?)
Left alone to contemplate disaster
With that same white world coming
Freakishly near your own
To destroy

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