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He crawls out
And leaves my dreams
As nothing more than whispered things
And from out my mouth,
A cry, "I'm done!"
My stale eyes open and I run.
A haunting stench,
It fills the air,
And beckons from my stomach,
Fear
My blue eyed haven,
Never cruel,
Has bloodied his most lethal tool
And on the ground
And on the floor
He makes no sound
He speaks no more
O, hallowed earthly realm
Dispel this aching grief within
My chest from out this quaking pen
- by Box Cutter Symphony |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 10/25/2010 |
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