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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
I have no idea what this is supposed to mean, except that I'm messed up. I mean, what other way can you describe the devil making you kill people?

Submitted: September 03, 2008

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Submitted: September 03, 2008



Why hath you deal with the wrath of dark?

Why hath you deal with the wrath of numbers?

You shall be forbidden from sanity, from hope.

You shall never recover, but only if you wish to be dirty.

Dirty for humankind, dirty for the close.

The shine of the dark sun reflecting off the blade of dirt.

Is colored by the life of the close. And the life of humankind.

What is this you may ask?

Hath you no common sense?

Fool, you hath not brought any worthiness among the grass of the earth,

For you have just brought shame and lies and filth.

Ashamed, be not. Hath you no pride?

Take advantage of the dirt that embeds your soul.

Take advantage of it, and color you blade with life of others. The soul of others.

You hath no care anymore. I demand.

What are those odd shapes upon the walls?

You use your blade wrong. Never again,

Shall you use it for that purpose.

You hath not the technique.

Gain the technique I bear, and you shall become worthy of walking within the dirt.

Remove the lifeline of the close to cleanse your mistake.

The roughness of the neck upon the blade will yet become habitual.

Pay no attention to the liquid. Think of it not as liquid, but as life.

Life in a different form. A different concept.

You must not worry, for this doing is not wrong.

Not with the dirt it is not.

Call it...

A necessity.

A necessity to be one within the dirt.

© Copyright 2018 Steve Cuhnool. All rights reserved.

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