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Poetry News Post #983

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Written by: Oystir Kyma'Dynesei, First Cavalry
Date: Sunday, March 5th, 2017
Addressed to: Everyone


hes taking to floor peeking through the door see if something's left
his belly clenched to feed while the rage pumps in his chest
bitter mouth that reeks with poison in his breath
screams about the was and were
bloodshot veins pulsing with every word
his crashing fists only two desperate blurs
and his revenge saved for the likes of her

she's sinking through floor saying nevermore asking whats the use
waving surrender's flag on the other hand a noose
hiding secrets living lives disguised as truth
goosebumps sprout upon her skin
and she is locked inside this cage again
where she domains over the lies and sin
to revolve nightly with the likes of him


his knees are on the floor hands prepared for war waiting for the call
prays for death and blood for the flames hell be famous after all
down in dirt where he belongs and where hell crawl
violence that always blessed
where execution is his last request
where mere survival is a great success
and hell have something to always possess

shes down upon the floor with her paramour emptied in her lips
she trembled with the need til she nursed to catch her grip
hope caught in this relapse and this slip
needs she knows will go unmet
thats gone so long its not even a threat
and her survival is a silhouette
and shell have something she will not forget

[OK]
Penned by my hand on the 15th of Vita, in the year 129 AM.


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