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BornToBeWicked's blog

 

Remembrance of My Death

Around, all around, the mourners gather.
My dread grows as the stroke of death falls against my naked soul.
It slays me, and darkly my
essence drips
to the wicked earth that is my prison.
In agony I try to run
while Death's shadow takes my hand.
Now alone, my cascade of tears falls upon darkened eyes.

This is my salvation
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