February 17, 2012
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A progression of perils
Haunting your wildest dreams
Sticking in your throat like
Fragments of salty grit

Innocent bells of ringing hells
Striving towards eternity
An entity of lust
Wrapped up in the enmity of hate
And sold to the highest bidder

Tongues of two sided blades
Harbingers of self-possession
Fleeting little animations
Of happenings in my heart

Above all there is you
Inside the firing essence
Within the grip of leviathan
Tightened with a bolt made of bones;
Mine to be exact

We are standing on the precipice
Of a broken heart and a broken dream
Who will be the first to fall?

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