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Seeds Of Death's Harvest

Tell me what you are looking for
burning your bridges of nightmares
when you unearth me from the ground
as my pale flesh of pallid green
of my autopsy screams
future seeds of my death's harvest
attached to your umbilical
causing my quivering ache
browsing the devouring hours
with dreams of bloodied entrails
as the early bird gets the worm
Written by FriarAbbot
Published
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