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Aug 2019
A barrel filled with eyes carries one hope.
A rather gruesome and unpleasant hope,
that feast upon the living and the live.
For the barrel hopes of death.

The death of love, life, and everything in between.
The barrel asks for life, no matter rancid or clean.
Ringing on heavens portal there is no consideration.
For love is not its first mutilation.
Written by
Nathaniel  22/M/US
(22/M/US)   
116
   Fawn
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