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Oh, you pretty little lump, Laying on the ground, you flail Your arms grasp, feet kick, Further, and further, you slip Down, down to the darkness of death. You cry out for help, Yet music still pounds Loudly, as my axe makes canals For your sweet blood to flow, Crashing on the floor. Finally, your heart stops, And I discard Your severed body and hang your head with the rest. Sweet dreams, my love, And now you may sleep.
0
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
A fascination with blood.
Oh, you pretty little lump, Laying on the ground, you flail Your arms grasp, feet kick, Further, and further, you slip Down, down to the darkness of death. You cry out for help, Yet music still pounds Loudly, as my axe makes canals For your sweet blood to flow, Crashing on the floor. Finally, your heart stops, And I discard Your severed body and hang your head with the rest. Sweet dreams, my love, And now you may sleep.
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jack-staub
Written by
American
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
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