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Her.

During day, she is locked away

Although in night, she returns with spite

From the depths of depth itself, she awakes herself

No longer holding control, there is nothing to console

In fighting-there is no will, everything tried-she finds thrill

Hatred-yet love, devil-yet dove

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i
Written by
ica-otoole
American
Published
Jun 23, 2010
Lines·Words
6·44
Permission

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