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In that hot place dull eyed folk with ice on their cheeks gaze at nothing. Wrapped in their deadly skin, they do not flinch from the arrows of their Gods. They are the desolate ones, that live with anger, their souls aflame with chill fire. Among innocents their blood will flow and their bodies will rot in pieces, forgotten.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

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Date: 4/16/2013 1:30:00 PM
- A powerful and deeply poem Kaye, very proficient written. - oxox / / Anne-Lise :)
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