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On his head   was tattooed a number      while through his mind         flew destruction. Over his shoulder blew Kong,         and upon Kong,              war's breastplate of torture. A viced gripped and girdled waist   with spikes tipped to rip the flesh. A chain mail vest webbed with deism   and acute despair lay sheathed. You see him and terror grips,              when through his eyes,              your eyes are reflected. What is your number. © 2013
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Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
Number
On his head   was tattooed a number      while through his mind         flew destruction. Over his shoulder blew Kong,         and upon Kong,              war's breastplate of torture. A viced gripped and girdled waist   with spikes tipped to rip the flesh. A chain mail vest webbed with deism   and acute despair lay sheathed. You see him and terror grips,              when through his eyes,              your eyes are reflected. What is your number. © 2013
irving-macpherson
Written by
New Scotland
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
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