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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 08, 2018

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Submitted: August 08, 2018



Throughout my wretched mass
Blood carves passages
The silent red
For which I have never asked
Cast through my veins
Hagged, enslaved
Under the vilest of all masks

A torture
A future of woe
Oh how goes the hymn I wonder
Of those beneath
How they must know the tepid wreath
Of a shattered brain and a riven soul

Unsavory, odious life
The task of humanity
A clash, eternally
Doomed, the path
Inevitably crippled amidst the course

Thus, I will perch here everlastingly
As a scourge of the past
In search of a trustworthy foe
Until I turn to dust

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