Draft #26
Dying for words, dying for romance, dying for your touch. The simple truths I could never understand, my selfish heart always wanting more. His son took a step back and asked his dad why it was so. Grown up now with no answer in sight, still he’s searching ever longer. If liberation means freedom, and the only true escape is death, The son looks back now, seeing the old man fade away, Trying to define life, the young boy wants its meaning.
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