In my system

It was sweet until it became pain.
The type considered a foreign strain.
The type to take flight on the epicentre of your plight,
To deceive, using deciept as its might.
Power to the nasal, the intoxication is amazing.
It creeps and crawls, on its way in.
Never to be mold, it does the molding.
Never to be cold, ice veins make never to be susceptible to pain.


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