April 11, 2010
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His glare,
It burns

His touch,
As cold as ice…

His heart,
Made of stone

He’s a brick
Or so he appears…

His mind,
Filled with shadows

His eyes,
A lunar eclipse,

His pain,

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blitsnik said...
Jul. 29, 2011 at 1:04 pm
Its good, and a good flow but short. it seems as if its cutting off abrubtly and that there should be more.
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