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Hadrian Veska
Poems
Jan 2018
Nil
They walk around
With blood pouring from their chests
And a spoon in hand to lap it back up,
But it's never enough.
After all, how could they be satisfied,
When their hearts lay on the ground
Charred and misshapen;
Sacrificed,
To the god of nothing.
Written by
Hadrian Veska
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Hadrian Veska
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