Mercenary
A sharp pressure in my mouth
Wave quake generator
Plasma artillery
Perpetual state of suffering
Longing for return
But I stand in the middle of the forgotten
The taste of aluminum
Lingers in my mouth
I cannot breathe
I struggle to be
I feel the tip of the needle
As it runs down my tongue
It grazes the side
A pinch
Prior to injection
But there is nothing left of me
Their world will always be pretentious
And I've still yet to see
If there anything left for us
Civilization type Mercenary A sharp pressure in my mouth Wave quake generator Plasma artillery Perpetual state of suffering Longing for return But I stand in the middle of the forgotten The taste of aluminum Lingers in my mouth I cannot breathe I struggle to be I feel the tip of the needle As it runs down my tongue It grazes the side A pinch Prior to injection But there is nothing left of me Their world will always be pretentious And I've still yet to see If there anything left for us Explain Request ×
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