Days of fears
A flood of tears
What a miserable life
A punch of a fist
A slit of a wrist
With a sharp steel knife
A pool of blood red
Could she be dead
Lying quiet and still?
She was always asked why
She wanted to die
"Because it was God's Will".
A flood of tears
What a miserable life
A punch of a fist
A slit of a wrist
With a sharp steel knife
A pool of blood red
Could she be dead
Lying quiet and still?
She was always asked why
She wanted to die
"Because it was God's Will".

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