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It's not hunger for flesh to matter, glucose and life. It's a feasting pain for soul, it's emptiness between ribs, lungs torn in fold. Christen me a black hole,  cardiac's no response to a dead soul, ghosts haven't a say. please it's no compatibility please me with fangs, fashion thistles and ripping implements, non-human descends always to the fiendish of gruesomeness, bloodless and monstrous. Haven't a prayer, haven't a soul, haven't got a vessel to scream  wretchedly home. It's best to let demons lie, let spirits die, burn out our dying phantom cries. It's to feed the slaughtered with platters of blades and bullet shrapnel, ghosts give, ghosts speak, ghosts don't truly wish for a living peace. Please may we take a taste of rifle barrel, please just a second helping of buck shot and spoiled brain splatter. Bless what we become, all ghosts eventually become undone.
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Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:21 AM UTC
Ghosts die Fiends
It's not hunger for flesh to matter, glucose and life. It's a feasting pain for soul, it's emptiness between ribs, lungs torn in fold. Christen me a black hole,  cardiac's no response to a dead soul, ghosts haven't a say. please it's no compatibility please me with fangs, fashion thistles and ripping implements, non-human descends always to the fiendish of gruesomeness, bloodless and monstrous. Haven't a prayer, haven't a soul, haven't got a vessel to scream  wretchedly home. It's best to let demons lie, let spirits die, burn out our dying phantom cries. It's to feed the slaughtered with platters of blades and bullet shrapnel, ghosts give, ghosts speak, ghosts don't truly wish for a living peace. Please may we take a taste of rifle barrel, please just a second helping of buck shot and spoiled brain splatter. Bless what we become, all ghosts eventually become undone.
devon-baker
Written by
American
Aug 28, 2011
Aug 28, 2011 at 12:21 AM UTC
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