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Buss

A wind glides across the brow

A cauterizing of the brain has begun

A cool rushes forth and fills the body

Lips bubble out no words

Sensations no longer linger

A solemn pit fills your heart

Silence fills the soul

Buss, we must.

Death is with us.

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Written by

American

Published: May 4, 2013
LinesWords: 947

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