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Angel Dust
The white crystals in his hands
Begging to be placed in his mouth
Devouring each and every grain
To replace his so-called internal pain
Angel dust calls upon him -
Awaits for him during his lonely hours
And at night he surrenders
To her vague yet purified aura
That captures his weakened soul
He is a prisoner of love – a captive one may say
“Angel dust, don’t leave, you’re my one and only need”
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