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The Urge

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The urge is a rage that I can't understand
The urge becomes all of me and controls who I am.
Its come unexpected with no regards to my heart
She's been my biggest enemy from the very start.

The urge cries for blood as she screams out my name.
She says that for a release, sacrifice must be made.
The urge won't give up, yes, persistent she is.
It indwells in my spirit and kills any bliss.
The urge is a syophant that flourishes in pain.
She'll feed off your heartache and dubious ways.
The urge leaves me choleric, coerced by her voice.
So rapt to surrender, I give up all choice.

The urge is a razor, disguised as a friend.
Instead of sweet love, scars to me she lends.
The urge lacks veracity, she'll only tell lies.
Oh, why must I fight this urge down inside?


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