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Void Of Love And Spit (Audio)

Poetry By: Scribblings of a middle aged mad man
Poetry


Tags: Death


Angel Of Death


Submitted:Sep 18, 2011    Reads: 5    Comments: 0    Likes: 2   


Closing the book, a shadow is cast

Scythe falls, shredding your past

Demanding flesh as he ruffs your collar

He wants coin of the soul not crumbled dollar

Each tune and chorus begins to cross fade

His empty purse demands to be paid

Turning your pockets gets no sympathy

This ride was never intended to be free

The fee is heavy, the price a treble clef

A noise that results in your long slow death

A rattle in your throat, and a tear in your eye

Your muscles tighten and so you die

Another debt settled, void of love and spit

Drafted with sweat and accrued profit

Coated in roses from the day you were born

Yet the well lit petals carry many a thorn





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