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Emily Jan 2016
Your hatred runs deep
Pure and untainted
Hands over me
Eyes closed senses heightened

A lock and a key
No doors to open
Breath in my ear
A question unspoken

A chance encounter
A twist of fate
A hand upon my neck

Trust and lies
Bruises and scars
Questions never ending

Hope and trust
Rage a must
A cycle
Our doom impending

— The End —