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Lust is a blood-red leash
Lust is a blood-red leash.
 Once it has me
 on its chain,
 I'm held until it's
 strangled me.
 
 And while it holds me
 on that leash,
 it builds a wall around me.
 It blocks out the sound
 of life.
 
 Nothing exists but feral
 desires
 as the collar around my neck
 is tightened,
 worn leather and
 hot metal
 cutting into my mind.
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