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Jun 2019
A body without soul is just remains,
Free to roam yet bound in chains.
Heartless beings with rotten minds,
Feeding off on whatever might they find.

Close to death, moment by moment
Still avoiding pain and the torment.
Living as slaves, controlled by fate
Born to die, in a nice cold grave.
Little poem about the body and death and soul and fate. I don't think it's the right description though.
Written by
Nemis  20/M
(20/M)   
326
   Bogdan Dragos
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