Life is Violent.

In my blood is a difference, a state defined with a rush and want; temptations tempt and the flesh is weak to it’s sources.
A few seconds, minutes, hours to the devil hour; too sad we all know and think about it.
All we are, are fools to realize the reality absence in the fake that may be considered as real; we know nothing, that’s why we wait for the future; a feature we scene to.
Death is nothing peaceful as a start if you ain’t saved from it. 
Wolves bite what they eat, all scenes play without notice; movies premier without cost unless it’s reality.

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