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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-04-17 | |
Weary dusk upon my joy,
On a flower made of lead. I can’t see it,can’t destroy, Then I wake up in my bed. Bright,sharp nails piercing my skin, Cleansing ritual for some. As I feel my blood is driping I await my death to come. Tic-tac,tic-tac,round the clock, I wave signals,no response. How I want the time to stop! No more nothing,not a glance. Not a taste and not a touch. Filled with emptiness I’ll be. As I fade I know this much, Love will live eternally…
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