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![Image for the poem Thinking it a Coffee House -- with Crimsin](/images/uploads/poemimages/526558.jpg?1730394358)
Thinking it a Coffee House -- with Crimsin
Troubled mind when dreams close in
haunted by shadows of memories
of raven's wearing death's caul
walking grounds of hallowed dead
with words engraved on headstones
listening to the crescendo of crying
corpses of dust and ashes, no
flesh to the bone, but half awake
in their four walls, thinking it a Coffee
House
stirring the bones I foretell your future
of cast-off harlots and midnights of debauchery
morbid meetings with groping fingers
filthy beasts with lying eyes
serpents tongue speaking metaphors to the weary
slipper cunts of ill repute
divining matrimony her hands on your money
witches brew a hex upon your head
crush the vixen whose wet trickles venom
you are betwixt one action or another
slay her now, the two-mouthed whore
kill her now or be forever cursed
haunted by shadows of memories
of raven's wearing death's caul
walking grounds of hallowed dead
with words engraved on headstones
listening to the crescendo of crying
corpses of dust and ashes, no
flesh to the bone, but half awake
in their four walls, thinking it a Coffee
House
stirring the bones I foretell your future
of cast-off harlots and midnights of debauchery
morbid meetings with groping fingers
filthy beasts with lying eyes
serpents tongue speaking metaphors to the weary
slipper cunts of ill repute
divining matrimony her hands on your money
witches brew a hex upon your head
crush the vixen whose wet trickles venom
you are betwixt one action or another
slay her now, the two-mouthed whore
kill her now or be forever cursed
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