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Collagen alpha-1(VII) chain is a protein that in humans is encoded by the COL7A1 gene.
This gene encodes the alpha chain of type VII collagen. The type VII collagen fibril, composed of three identical alpha collagen chains, is restricted to the basement zone beneath stratified squamous epithelia. It functions as an anchoring fibril between the external epithelia and the underlying stroma. Mutations in this gene are associated with all forms of dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa. In the absence of mutations, however, an autoimmune response against type VII collagen can result in an acquired form of this disease called epidermolysis bullosa acquisita.
Type VII collagen is also found in the retina; its function in this organ is unknown.
COL7A1 is located on the short arm of human chromosome 3, in the chromosomal region denoted 3p21.31. The gene is approximately 31,000 base pairs in size and is remarkable for the extreme fragmentation of its coding sequence into 118 exons. COL7A1 is transcribed into an mRNA of 9,287 base pairs. In the skin, the type VII collagen protein is synthesized by keratinocytes and dermal fibroblasts.
Ghost of Mother
Lingering death
Ghost on Mother's bed
Black strands on the pillow
Contour of her health
Twisted face upon the head
Ghost of perdition
Stuck in her chest
A warning no one read
Tragic friendship
Called inside the fog
Pouring venom brew deceiving
Devil cracked the earthly shell
Foretold she was the one
Blew hope into the room and said:
"You have to live before you die young"
Holding her down
Channeling darkness
Hemlock for the Gods
Fading resistance
Draining the weakness
Penetrating inner light
Road into the dark unaware
Winding ever higher
Darkness by her side
Spoke and passed her by
Dedicated hunter
Waits to pull us under
Rose up to its call
In his arms she'd fall
Mother light received
And a faithful servant's free
In time the hissing of her sanity
Faded out her voice and soiled her name
And like marked pages in a diary
Everthing seemed clean that is unstained
The incoherent talk of ordinary days
Why would we really need to live?
Decide what is clear and what's within a haze
What you should take and what to give
Ghost of perdition
A saint's premonition's unclear
Keeper of holy hordes
Keeper of holy whores
To see a beloved son
In despair of what's to come
If one cut the source of the flow
And everything would change
Would conviction fall
In the shadow of the righteous
The phantasm of your mind
Might be calling you to go
Defying the forgotten mortals