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A Gift of Sorrow

Oblivions folly found in her womb
Stillborn, a gift of darkness
The stars haunt her bittersweet
And the winds kiss at her cheek
A conspiracy of storks
Left ill tempered at her betrayal
Born of filth and acrid deeds
She calls forth a pretty death
As she picks at long empty scars
Still bleeding she licks her wounds
Thedeadinme
Written by Thedeadinme
Published
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