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May 2010
The words fall from his mouth like blood from a paper cut hemophiliac.  The barrier that once took years to construct within his own soul crumbles like the sands of time.  The breaking of the barrier lifts his spirits farther than heaven dares climb.  With a flash of light he bleeds like the hemophiliac and falls to the lowest pits of hell where Satan loathes himself. With broken wings trying to make flight he is left burdened on the ground like a muddy bird.
Written by
Jon
670
     D Conors
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