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my fortune

As I pull the blade through me

my own clutched hair in hand

life, blood and breath move from me

to weak I cannot stand

not a care I have for you

the mirror speaks so grand

to laugh now I hear you

so far a beastly band

your love I hold before me

in this cold now dying hand

cold steel is my fortune

loves toll takes me from this land

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Written by
ac-brooks-1
American
Published
Oct 4, 2011
Lines·Words
12·72
Permission

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