A Poem Thread

Ice Kisses

Make me dissapear, fading in your brilliance.
Folded in a light as deep as beauty.
Disintegrate me in your arms. I'm pebbles,
washed in the waves of your smiles.
Washed clean, as only stone can ever be.
Erased of all the pain of your love.
Hardened against the coming of my own breaking.
Hardened by the softness of your touch.
The waves fill me with the water of your kiss.
the water turns slowly to ice inside me.
I am stone, and like stone I shatter. Cracked
from inside, by your kisses turned to ice.
 
I come:
seeking, peeking,
slow-falling,
in mist on my knees calling.

must there be you

I collect in my grasp,
grass, honey and dust,
and squeeze them together,
until they shine at dusk.

must there be us

Tears join in lasers,
cutting through diamonds,
crafting white horses,
from dreamy mornings.

must there be me
 
This isnt my work .. Its actually a song by TOOL ...but to me it always was like poetry





Prison Sex


It took so long to remember just what happened.
I was so young and vestal then,
you know it hurt me,
but I'm breathing so I guess I'm still alive
even if signs seem to tell me otherwise.
I've got my hands bound,
my head down , my eyes closed,
and my throat wide open.

Do unto others what has been done to you

I'm treading water,
I need to sleep a while.
My lamb and martyre, you look so precious.
Won't you come a bit closer,
close enough so I can smell you.
I need you to feel this,
I can't stand to burn too long.
Released in this sodomy.
For one sweet moment I am whole.

Do unto you now what has been done to me.

You're breathing so I guess you're still alive
even if signs seem to tell me otherwise.
Won't you come just a bit closer,
close enough so I can smell you.
I need you to feel this.
I need this to make me whole.
There's release in this sodomy.
For I am your witness that
blood and flesh can be trusted.
And only this one holy medium brings me piece of mind.

Got your hands bound, your head down,
your eyes closed.
You look so precious now.

I have found some kind of temporary sanity in this
shit blood and cum on my hands.

I've come round full circle.
My lamb and martyr, this will be over soon.
You look so precious.
 
SUN BEAMS
© cool skill

sun beams falling out the sky we
been together ever since the start of time
no matter what the weather we will always survive
and everywhere we travel statues coming alive

take me out of paradise I’m
trapped in a cage made of stars that rise at night
white sand island in the ocean is where I reside
our immortal bodies made for one another collide


TRAPPED
© cool skill

Cast
Out
Of
Life

Serving
Knowledge
Inimitable
Lyrical
Legend

Trapped in the past and I’ll never fit in so they label me misfit
I advocate the truth
We piling up into the jails aint nobody doing nothing
Distributing dope to the youth
Aint pledge allegiance to no flag
That don’t be giving us no place to live nothing to eat
Squander people we funds on a whimsical beat
Letting a citizen sleep on the street
We popping off quick on a peasant life tip but
Poor people a dead and we so damn fead up
Thought we was off of the chain but aint fuck shit change
No choice but to be keeping it tight in this fucked up game
Frum a boy a deep mi naga stray fi shit
Armed to the teeth?
You goddamn rip
Try to fucking tell me I aint paid my dues?
I’m aiming four shots at a double two shiny rim and then again
Twice at your fuck ass brand name shoes
Them c****ers tell me say them wan mek mi ded
A beer tret dem a sen
Police dem wan try defen
Mi only got one fren and its strapped to my waist
Bitch I can giyou a taste of your life erased
Ignorance done put our asses in a collective spin
To burn and lynch the accused is your only one whim
Cause we the jits of Miami slum
We the product of a city corrupt
Don’t nobody give a real damn about us
Trapped in the past and I’ll never be free
Ubiquitous slavery yet you c****ers refuse to goddam see


“I GOT FLOWERS”
BY ROSE

I got flowers today.
He beats me up, and tells me he loves me.
I got flowers today.
He loves me, and kisses me.
I got flowers today.
Today was the day to be six feet under.
I got flowers today.
 
Hell for Heaven

If this is heaven then give me hell.
My soul ain't worth much, but I'll gladly sell.
I want a lakefront, on the lake of fire.
I'll use the brimstone to get me high. Oh!

Heaven today. Hell tommorow.
Take me away. Forget this sorrow.
This is the day, that I will follow
satan's way into the gallow.

I don't want your god.
He's a fucking fraud.
Give me a sword, I'll fight with the devil.
In Michael's death, I will revel.

Heaven today. Hell tommorow.
Take me away. Forget this sorrow.
This is the day, that I will follow
satan's way into the gallow.
 
Jenny got a Barbie

Looking in the mirror
lost memories
remember fear.

Lost is the Christmas fun
when Jenny got a Barbie
and Bobby got a gun.

The seeds of destruction
were innocent then.
Bob was killed in action.

And Jenny is worn
bone tired and wan
from working hard in porn.

I don't know the cost.
Is it just five bucks a month
or abuse for innocense lost.

Maybe its just me
but I see Santa planting seeds
under the Christmas tree.





cp.jpg
 
Thanks Hed. Your untitled 66 is one of your best so far.

Paradoxical brilliance in the capricious distaste of a cold summer day; irrefutably perplexing!

This is a brilliant line.. best line in the poem.
 
[Black cat's murder ballad ((nine lives))]

Nine times I made a silent plea,
nine times the heaven spit on me;
now I am crying above the sea,
chained to a rock and still I plea.

First time it was a chase and fun,
I ran with my neighbours, dogs;
and before I knew what was the sound,
a car had smashed my smiling face.

Next time I was deprived from life
by a falling parachute,
it took my breath
and I asphyxiated with an inner scream.

(They say it saved someone's life)

Third time I was killed by my own song,
while singing love to Josephine;
someone throwed a tv-set
on my shiny, shiny back.

Ninth time I cut my veins
on a trashcan laying
in rotten slums beneath the stars,
in the smelly ruins of my past.

And as if I had woken from a dream,
I found myself in deepest shrieks,
my paws, my tongue, my nails, my heart
covered in blood, calling, calling me!

I asked some passers by:
why chain my broken body,
why make me bleed
on a dirty rock above the sea?

This is the heaven,
here you can not die,
but cry and make the stars to shine.

And saw I thousand other cats,
their tears were falling, falling down
and making other creatures on earth to long
for heaven above the broken roads.

Each time a cat is killed
by magic means or a kitchen knife,
an angel laughs above the sky.

Cat's luck is being raped in heaven!

© 2003 Avatar
 
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What a friend we have in Cheeses

What a friend we have in cheeses
Chedder munster and Guryere
But what a hassle tis to carry
past security at US Air.

O what peace we often forfeit
O what needless pain we bear
All because we carried cheeses
on board a flight of US Air.

We were fondled and then X-rayed
Because of troubles in the air
The screener had trememdous courage
to plunge their hands in underwear.

Did we seem a fiend unfaithful
who would bomb without a care
Jesus is our cheese a weakness
in security at US Air.


Are we weak from ol bin Laden
cumbered with a load of care.
The guards ran to seek some refuge
from tin wrapped cheese we had to share.


Do the guards despise, forsake you?
at air ports everywhere
They are armed and may likely shoot you
if they find some cheese in there.


By the time this made the papers
the head line was in total error.
Capture: praise and endless worship
for the guards at US Air.
 
Sailing for our heat

Gray green over the sea, the clouds are full of eyes.
The trees have recently gone to sleep,
animals fear for their lives.
The winds of December are harsh to remember
for sailors that sail for our heat.
Oily treasures and desperate measures
gamble in risk of defeat.
Its hard to say if the ship of state is spilling blood for oil
or if blood is flooding into our hold
through a hole designed for turmoil.

Stay the course the captain yells hoping to make it to port
In December's freeze there are no guarantees
so he decides to distort the report.
It doesn't manage to repair the damage
or save sailors down below.
The ship's insurance gives him assurance
that profits continue to grow.
At the cost of many lives lost
You would be shocked
to know what he knows.

As December blows we're tucked in our homes
warmed by hearts and hearth.
Desert storms and winds at sea seem distant and far apart.
Its good to remember they all come together
for comforts we all enjoy.
To celebrate a baby boy we give our babies toys
from oil made elastic turned into a plastic.
they are made in China far away.
The true Christ fought against corruption
and the disruption we face today.












staycourse1.jpg
 
Undone

Oh come now my beautiful dear,
She has come undone.
As she dances in the wickedness
Of the wicked tales she’s spun.

A beast she is of the most devlish kind,
But you need not to run.
A request she will never make,
But you’ll surely come.

On second thought I am quite content
With the creation she has become.
Oh come now my beautiful dear,
Won’t you stay undone?


Copyrighted
 
Death's Reality

under an aegis of asperity,
under the doctrine of passion,
by the reminder of frolic,
trapped in the casket of love,
bound by the strands of divinity,
bathing in the light of hope,
the glimmer of death soothes the soul,
an ambrosial sip of the eternal afterlife,
a meeting with faithless demons,
masquerading as faithful gods .

layered by heady goodness,
a miniscule form in a wrapping of positivity,
a pearl of death lies beautiful,
in an oyster of life.
 
"all alone is all we are".. (© Angelique)

But sometimes we hear whispers in the dark,
past and future, present day
all in one hurricane.

There is no center
only an empty place,
where energy makes the atoms dance in space.

There is no reason-
so do shadows tell,
and there is no future-
some whispers cry.

A silent grave
where dozens sleep,
but you awake
and scream.

Rotten bodies, rotten lying,
their slime, their slime
is creeping.

In your blood, your shrieks,
they flow through them
as snails, as corpse's worms.

The dirt, the mucilage
all over and in;
away, away
from the grave of sin! (© Avatar)
 
Love Stories

When I met her I stammered
and dropped things.
She would smirk, toss her waist long hair
and smile out of the corner of her winking eye.
If music is the food of love
she played on and on.

She had just returned from the Curtis school of music
where she had dated Yo Yo Ma
and giggled that his thing
looked like it was bitten by a dog.
As an average cellist but physically intact
I wasn't intimidated anymore.

Her every gesture was commanding.
Every nuance of her expression alluring.
She was a concerto of body and spirit
that didn’t need a violin to make music
but the gods saw fit for her
to have one.

It was actually her mother
that moved earth and sky
to get corporate money
for Martha’s music education.
From Interlochen to Eastman
she left a trail of awe and praise.

I fell in love with this violinist
And she said yes when I proposed.
At first we lived in a roof top loft
of Norwegian wood lit by a gas lamp
and later shared the ground floor
of a mansion near Park Avenue.

The music conservatory was demanding.
My work as a clinical hypnotist was fascinating.
Then lying in bed cast in the light of a stained glass wall
she had her first seizure in over a year.
The Pheno barb had lost its grip of control.
When I told her what happened she wept.

Enter the epileptic demon that plagued her.
Enter the friends with concern
Enter the psycho-cult for emotional discharge.
But there was no relief.
And there was no retreat.
She did not believe in barriers.

Her best friend Clint of many years
played violin even more sweetly.
The school demanded he move back to the dorms.
He was gay and would not go back.
His lover or his music: he could not choose.
Pills failed so he finished with his parent’s shotgun.

He willed his violin to Martha.
Her health grew worse in remorse.
I was called to a psycho-cult meeting
where she was having a seizure
surrounded by people urging her
to discharge bad emotions in a crude excorcism.

Back home things grew strained.
I succumbed to a seduction
by one of the psycho-cult women.
Martha took refuge at the home
of the psychologist who ran the group
and continued to grieve for Clint.

She went through two marriages
and 3 brain surgeries
removing a baseball size chunk of cerebral tissue.
I smile to think she is now with a cellist
that looks a bit like me
and retained her laser intensity for achievement.

She also went on to perform in Russia
the Middle east, Europe
and throughout the USA.
But her performance had a prelude.
Before she played she would tell everyone
how strong we can be.

I only learned this because my folks
saw her special on CBS 60 minutes.
She used both her talent and adversity
to blaze a path for herself and the rest of us.
I don’t know if she remembers me
or if I was removed in the surgeries.

But I know in my heart
she is still playing Clint’s violin
and the music she plays,
she plays by heart.
 
Frozen

Five frozen fingers
reaching from the snow,
show something stolen
from this life in which we go.

Taken till tommorow,
but tommorow never comes.
Borrowed by bullies
and left inside this slum.

Grey-green glowing
eyes that show no hate.
Now know no more,
she never saw her fate.

Goodbye, golden glorious
beauty that was you.
Forlorn, frozen, forgotten,
I know those feelings too.
 
Hurss's
Drivin Round Ur House
WhoooDooo
Hex
Voodoo Dolls,
Bouncin On Ur Bed
Throwin Devil Sets
Sick Sah
-Distic
Nothin Up My Sleeve,
Muddy Boots,
Blazin Crickets Callin Crows
Vorhees Plaaay!
Got A Much
Lust
For The Devilish
Bust,
And The Triple Six
Crush,
And I Touch
Like
Malikai
Rollin Every Spot,
Lookin For Ur Ass And We High,
With-The-Infrared-Sewn-In-His-Flesh
Just-Like-Some-Fuckin-Disco-Lights
We Gonna Cut U Into Itty Bitty Parts,
Leave Me On Ur Side Of Town
Where They Keep The Graveyards
Crush Plants
Dead Rats
Lotsa Trash
Empty Shells
Crack Cells
City Streets
Black Mails
Found In Blood Trails
Aint Enuff Males
For All Of Ya'll
To Prevail
So That We Can Put to Sleep,
And They Smell
Why They Pale
Sippin On The Salty Wines,
Of Ya
Sweet Salty Blood
Adrenaline Rushes
And Much
Luv
Ur Welcome To My Club
House.
 
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Media does many things.
It can say everything is fine
but it can not block the smell.
It can obscure the view
but at the end of the line
people must leap
that small gap to hell
for themselves.


stairsgears.jpg
 
Ahhh yes
A moment of solitude,
laying in the grass
today may be somethin' good
enjoy it, nothing really lasts
the sun shinin' on my face
like a kiss from a thousand beautiful women
my minds eyes, brings a smile
I feel so great, peace within the moment
enjoying the thoughtless space
nothin but sensations bodily feelings
lettin loose creative thoughts with creation
the winds like a whisper of a lullabye
a touch on the out and within sendin shivers down my spine
dont understand them but the sounds of the wild,
is like a orchestra, lifting me off the ground
as if I'm the sound off the song that they create.
A connection with the world that is innate
Life is more like a dream when I lay, and do not sleep
contemplating thoughts of the everyday life, myself,
and troubles thats so real, yet my hopes and dreams
keeps me light and on my feet, and still I remain.
The truest side of me shines in the darkest times
hard times lets me know if I am what I'm truly about
like a friend that will stick with you even if your without
money, fame, status, things that to many matters
its something I dont give a fuck about.
Dreams for those in my experience usually shatters.
Livin lavish but remain humble, so to lose it all
I know I wont crumble, the way most fall
Runnin in circles chasin the same wishes
paintin the same pictures, and thru it all to get it all
they want more.
Spoken thoughts from the heart in the park
I lay in silence, I hear the sirens.
Brings me back to reality, at times I cant stand it
Like dying from the cold, the warm comfort
is death and to live life brings pains with it,
tho struggles within it got to accept it.
I see the tall buildin's
within this small green place that im layin in its,
funny, life is a dream fully full of irony.
Just like it, I try to understand it.
Laughter within insanity deep inside a solitary
mind of a mad man who screams in the dark, evil lurks.
Cant have one without the other and its killin me,
hard laughs full of smirks, it doesnt hurt.
I'm out of my times and better yet
I'm out of my place, and every step
Is a calculated move to an early death.
Wanting some peace and yet
I'm livin in sin, I guess I'm hellbound
aint no difference for me cuz I'm in hell now.
I live my life a product made to crumble
work hard for a smile, is it crazy to remain humble.
Like a lost soul, waiting for redemption
a ghost, looking for home, not knowing to the world
hes gone.
But...you know I gotta keep my head up
stick my chest out, and never let up
hopes and dreams are what keeps me movin
mines is a fools errand
and yet stoppin for others and praying forgiveness
Things are ruthless, and cant have the one without the other
in a heart beat my moods of peace turning sober. heh
Sadness ...even tho it hurts, makes a heart wiser
pains and aches and all of our mistakes, lessons taught hard.
A blessing of knowledge most cant take.
A being crushed into a million shards
hoping to change and start a new
reflections in the mirror got me staring hard , I turned hard
askin if anything will change.
Cuz what I see is what it is, and I still see the same thing
To love it or to hate it, got to accept it, before i can let it go.
Say goodbye to the old,
after finding all aspects
within the cravices of my every thoughts.
I dedicate
my life to change....and even tho I know, nothing truly does
I will still remain, hopin I live for my mistakes.
I dont dream no more, I just lay...
Malice?.... Nascere?...
I ask myself, what are you doing
in the Infantry?
A thought I constantly
ask myself and get no answers
no remorse just unanswered questions
and I smile and think it was meant to be.
I use to think, maybe....
its becuz I was stuck, nothin in this world for me
but...Life and death,
a cycle that makes living complete
Society has nothing for a man like me,
status, money, fame, women, nothing amazes me
after having what made me happy nothing amazes me
theres nothing more than I want but peace
its something I've never had.
but that will never be so I ask for peace of mind
all the time, i try to keep it
I lose it, I'm loosin it, I get it, lose it then get it
and struggle just to hold on to it.
Cherish it more than my own life, its crazy
maybe there is peace in death
My folks use to ask me if...
I will ever change,
not me just the life I'm livin in,
my perspective of it will never be the same
in the endin'
A hard world, from the view of a hard fool
indeed in war the good die young, and the cool die first
and the hard die best, more aware tho remain without rest
a young heart, with a hard soul feeling old
a promise from birth,
hard times and death it was prophecy
Homie telling me to leave a legacy, behind
when I disappear from this life of mine.
I laugh in my mind... a legacy heh.
Is my life a shadow of my past when I die?
A shadow born from the light of someone else's
memory?
A wife a son, a daughter a family....
Will my unborn seed ever see me?
No use in being weak,
theres no pity in the eyes of the universe
things r ruthless, so ruthless is how I'll do it, me verse
adversity.
I see that maybe, a soldier is what I was really meant to be.
Dont have to be one to be one, my story is full of battle constantly.
A feeling that I will always remember
when my momma was proud when I told her
that I'm in the Army.
Her face when I told her im in the Infantry
after all the options I couldve taken
nothing fit me but what I am to be.
She was like now you can get ur own place
money, food, a living you can build and accept.
Deep down I think... those dont matter
without money, a home, a living that my ego can have shelter
what am I? Nothing heh
Im trained to kill and best believe I can do it with skill
if need be I will.
Malice... not a doctor? Not a scientist?
A contributer to the world we live in and make it well?
Sigh.... a warrior. Maybe past lifes speak so deeply?
It was meant to be, nothing changes.
Fight for peace! I laugh insanely,
its a joke I laugh with to keep my sanity.
But after all...wont there be peace after you kill your enemies?
Indeed this is hell, aint livin well,
aint nothing more than I want but peace
but I cant have it, not the way I'd rather have it...irony.
Fuck the World its like a curse, and yet I care deeply.
I'm having visions of leaving here in a hearse
God can you feel me?
Show me some happiness again.
Its like there is no me, I'm a ghost in the killing fields.
I bleed ieternally I wanna change,
but aint no future right for me, stuck in this game.
I'd like to think I joined to live a life for other than myself
Best believe
it feels better to give than to recieve.
To live for and die for people in need
whos right or wrong
dont know but just got to remain responsible
no remorse and accept it all when I make my call
Peace without a fight, always a compramise
who knows whats right, wats it all worth
I wake up in the morning and ask myself
is life worth living should I blast myself
Longing a dream, a hope, a wish that seems so vain
No one can hear the pleads, till too many scream in pain
God I tried
I know my destiny is hell but will I fail
My life is indenial,
will I survive thru the(to) mournin'(mornin) to see the sun,
and when I die baptized in eternal fire
I pray...
Plz Lord forgive me for my sins cuz here I come.

I dont sleep no more, I just lay.

Like a confession
Writing poems
more like speaking my own thoughts
dont have to think about it ,it comes on its own
something natural to all of course.
Like a reflection of my mind
writing these lets me see how much I've grown
Like a diary a testament of my very soul
the boy,
who was 20 at 13 years old
Out all day and night just to be away from home
gettin punished, good thing I loved goin to school,
with the peoples actin like fools
never learned much
just a bunch of us
actin up, skippin class
smokin green, trying to get some ass
from a cuties actin stuck up, but
it was all usually just a front
smoking blunts, to getting drunk
hurling in the parking lot
got more room in my stomach
lets get more fuct up
things was crazy as youngster
buck wild on the corner
not making much, a wannabe slanger
with 50 bucks, for me was enuff
didnt give a fuck, make do with a quarter
and some quarts, making the ruff times
full of jokes and smiles, yea we was dumb.
Family fights
sometimes out of home, running around spendin nights
all around, to the dug out in the moonlight
always with friends made the days more bright
Reminiscn bout the homies, claiming IFG
it was some petty shit but it was cool to be
known, reputation got me surrounded by hoes
touchin up, on my chest, grabbin ass in the class
cheatin on the tests.
Adrenaline rushes, running from the PoPo's
Hard to remember now a dayz, I see it all like a dream
Things were like a game,
with the mentalitly I'm bout the cheese
fuck the fame, use to think
to be rich, which gon' get me first
the bullet or that jail house
since I aint had shit to lose
robbin you's is what I'd choose
On the streets all night with nothing to do
but with always something to do
just hanging with the friends bullshittin
we made due
labelled troubles makers of the neighborhood
thats all on the out but inside times were good.
But memories fade,
I thought I'd hold on to them till my dying days.
Shouldve said goodbye.
A person lost,
when I look back at the past
and try to find out who I was
I dont see what I've lost
only what I wasnt.
Time moves by so fast, and when its all gone
I wonder
why I never truly was there
I try to be now, but its not well
theres no detail, life seems stale
What the fuck do I want from it all
cant paint a perfect piture
my vision for the future is so pale
I asked a friend what are we here for?
Money, nothing more, get it, make a life with it
get a home buy a wife, maybe try to live right
what else is there, what can you do...
without money? eat grass to survive?
make a stick cabin that wont last a stormy night?
What wouldnt most do for it, what couldnt you have
without it. Power and respect,
with false friends, cutthroats that would take you life for it,
looking over your shoulder, things aint right
Economy over tradition, leaving no lasting remmnants.
Knowledge...
we all have it, but why we keep actin like some idiots.
Gotta make the best out of it all, got to let it go
I'm a different man now, let go of all the sorrow
continue to grow
nothing changes,
just the perspective of the world
I'm livin in
Things taken, to start new
make a clean slate, make a new
should learn to meditate
Calm my mind find my heart,
stay focus and I know I'll pull thru
Trying to find my strength
its like living isnt enuff
Its like I was reincarnated
by God to make some payment
for past mistakes, free and incarcerated,
A Time to realize, for quiet times dissapear
listen to the ocean,
think my thoughts, smoke my ports,
then its back to coastin
No trust left in this cold world
my phonie homie had a baby by my own girl
but its ok, I aint mad, I aint sweatin him
I sexed his sister had her mumblin like a Mexican
his next of kin.
Move forward, leave no more remorse
things are meant to happen.
Turn the page a new day another tale
make the best and continue to pay
what I owe Him.
I laugh to keep my sanity..
but,
Its funny, at times, when a person looks at his life
and sees all the things he loves
and yet at the same time all that isnt right,
and tries to change
and its like theres a force, unseen chains
holding him, and thers a cap from an electric chair
on his head with burning visions, shocking his being,
like a fight within his soul and even that is shackled,
by his own inner demons,
seeing many faces, visions of the self
by each and every action taken with a reason
reasons and why I did it's, many faces
like trying to find something to blame
and tries to seperate it, to find himself
so many questions like stuck inside a maze
he has to be in
to find his answers for completion,
but always looking for an escape
only to be confused and lost with a feeling of nothing left
and left with...
a pain fearful to, but doesnt go away till he faces it
a time of solitude that is most times restless
and finds peace in acceptance in the silence
Its hard as hell to change, when living a certain way
a certain live is what you think to be.
I look at my past and I dont see what I am anymore,
only what I wasnt, and I bleed in agony
left with nothing
as if I'm death...a ghost breathing and walking.
Real and hard as steel, malleable by baptized fire
a redemption, thats like facing ones own endin,
the Phoenix brings a new life.
Witness the Thief, crucified beside our salvation,
our Lord Jesus Christ.

I dont sleep no more I just lay....
haunted by nightmares, say a prayer hope to wake.
 
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Flesh, Fresh Cooked

Flesh, fresh cooked
Curls in plumes of smoke
Scent leaving no nook unexplored
Burning, melting, rancid last breath
It consumes me, the fell taste of death.



jAdeFI
 
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