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Rapid rivers slow to a halt And are slowly infected with beds of salt Turning that which brought life To something that withers and brings strife
Dry, deep-set eyes empty of love or tears Look into them; see my soul in the darkest mirror
Taste the loathing, the pain, the wraith Expect my forgiveness, and hope to sate Broken limbs, twisted minds Redefined mistrust, I stray from the kind
I rip through hearts, tear through tendons Waiting for the light, the rising sun In this eternal madness, I find no rest I only live to fight, to prove I'm the best
Flesh dangles from my nails, blood streaking my mane I kill what I see, and call myself ‘loves-bane' I maim that which I cared about Who else can walk carnage's route?
Dry, deep-set eyes empty of love or tears Will you look into them? And see my corrupted soul in the mirror
Timothy Weiermann
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, March 02, 2009 |
| Submitted Date |
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Monday, March 09, 2009 |
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