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The Son of Rage and Love

I am the bruises on her arm
The flower of carnage

I am the worker bee's anarchic thoughts
The sirens in the moonlight

I am the smack of skin to hand
The needle in her veins

I am the lone tear mixing with the dripping blood
The burning swish down your throat

I am the son of rage and love
The translucent line between hate and passion

Nice to meet you my dear





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