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Gone the World , Blood and Sand

my body hath befallen to the sacred of dust, an all that of the lost of sentimental we must, for the caretaker to this tomb as to endure of a prayer, o have held them from the children through all body of despair, my soul is the cost for hell that i raise, to bring light to the darkness and shadow to the days, it is only the throne to the unglorious ways is this myth, but only a maze, a supple but poisonous gaze, a temptation that is the sickness of this life in which we praise.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 2/25/2013 3:56:00 PM
Demarice i like your poem very much... 'take care~SKAT
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Book: Shattered Sighs