The black leech is here,
Slowly creeps up my arm,
Leaving its oozy liquid as,
It crawls up my shoulder,
And eats me up alive,
Sucking out thick blood,
Blistering deep my skin,
Till no skin is left,
And bones are noticed,
Devours them as it lurks,
Consuming in cold blood,
Evoking ache in every bit,
Every tear, piercing intensely,
The blood flows, endlessly,
Crick arousing,
As I acridly cry out,
With suspended senses,
Nothing can I do,
But forbear the sting,
Till pain turns to solace,
Salvation within it,
... And it’s the slow decay of my self.
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