Lover, dear, of blood-drained dead
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Of flesh made sheet, of bone made gel
Of heart made cold, no beat to spill
From open wounds of spear and pellet
Liquid, life. Long gushed and hardened
Dark, upon the tiles
Of abattoir, I know you, love
Yet still I slip in puddle, blood
Come hard to Reaper's crimson cloak
And mourn all death in Death's embrace
The answer to EVERYTHING!!!:- The Cycle.
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