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anger is a gift

Hand clinches

into a fist.

Which I could use

against you

Not a care in the world.

You say I'm blasphemous

I say your weak.

Screaming demons,

muscles writhing

in pain.

Blood stained eyes,

my tongue

sharpened like a sword.

Begging for mercy

upon a liars chair.

I can

I am.

tears shed,

spit it out.

Dying one more death,

to be redeemed again.

I live on.

Calloused hands, scarred sanity

hate is divinity

I am almighty.

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Written by
michael-bingoff
American
Published
Oct 3, 2009
Lines·Words
25·77
Permission

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