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"thet" poems
aes·thet·ic /esˈTHedik/ adjective adjective: aesthetic; adjective: esthetic 1. concerned with beauty or the appreciation of beauty. "the pictures give great aesthetic pleasure" giving or designed to give pleasure through beauty; of pleasing appearance. "several aesthetic gardens radiate from the fountain in the square" noun noun: aesthetic; plural noun: aesthetics; noun: esthetic; plural noun: esthetics 1. a set of principles underlying and guiding the work of a particular artist or artistic movement. "the colorless aesthetic"
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 9:08 PM UTC
aesthetic; by definition
Wal, Thanksgivin’ do be comin’ round. With the price of turkeys on the bound, And coal, by gum! Thet were just found, Is surely gettin’ cheaper. The winds will soon begin to howl, And winter, in its yearly growl, Across the medders begin to prowl, And Jack Frost gettin’ deeper. By shucks! It seems to me, That you I orter be Thankful, that our Ted could see A way to operate it. I sez to Mandy, sure, sez I, I’ll bet thet air patch o’ rye Thet he’ll squash ’em by-and-by, And he did, by cricket! No use talkin’, he’s the man— One of the best thet ever ran, Fer didn’t I turn Republican One o’ the fust? I ‘lowed as how he’d beat the rest, But old Si Perkins, he hemmed and guessed, And sed as how it wuzn’t best To meddle with the trust.
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3.3k
Ezra On The Strike
There they are drooping over the breakfast plates, angel-like, folding in their sad wing, animal sad, and only the night before there they were playing the banjo. Once more the day's light comes with its immense sun, its mother trucks, its engines of amputation. Whereas last night the **** knew its way home, as stiff as a hammer, battering in with all its awful power. That theater. Today it is tender, a small bird, as soft as a baby's hand. She is the house. He is the steeple. When they **** they are God. When they break away they are God. When they snore they are God. In the morning thet butter the toast. They don't say much. They are still God. All the ***** of the world are God, blooming, blooming, blooming into the sweet blood of woman.
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2.9k
The Fury Of *****
you wrote  me  a letter with you signature in that letter was lines of lust. this lust was deep you talked about .. curves ,breast , lips i read on and thought **** he moves me with so much passion i sworn it was because he loved me because i was the only woman that feed him songs of freedom . freedom from the chains of pain late nights of running through each others  minds. you wrote  me a letter with your signature in that letter was lines of secrets you talked  about  your past i read on then understood i couldnt be your little secret anymore. i would have to leave you alone you wrote me a letter with your signature in in that letter was lines of mysery the paper wet from your tears  and in bold letter was the reason why. you said the lost of compassion kept you up late. tossing and turning in bed. and that you havent ate . you wrote me a letter  with your signature in that letter was lines of love. deep love that you wanted to experience. love that wasnt judging  but  forgiving . i read thet letter thinking we could have done better. grab my hand i can take you back to your begining when you and i were kings and queens at the bottom was a p.s. stating that you have moved on. and what we shared had been lost. that time was wasted being with me. you needed space to breathe. and thats when i knew that the writing was not about me.
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Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 8:52 PM UTC
african mailman
What if you look down, There will be a dawn. Your eyes sparkle in the night, How can thet shine so bright?
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Bright
Happily he deals very gently and understandingly with me.  I love him. (sonnet #MMMMMDCCXCV) Not mists.  Thet ghostly whiteness as a veil Down where the valley shivers in suspense, Flirtatious winds' moist breath stale in the sense Tis muggy ere dawn cast off Sunday's pale Thought of more hallowed things, and in a frail Excuse I button that blouse Mum gave thence To me, to die as seeing her worn face hence, Those precious eyes, and hate me in betrayl. Oh Robert!  How I want to scream as twere Until the universe is shattered to Sheer nothingness.  But then as now in poor 'Scuse, no sound can come out. And I tell you Cuz only you seem understand.  Mists tour Forsooth, and I still breathe, pray, love you too. 24Jul16a
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Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 9:20 PM UTC
Ever Heard "It's Too Late Now"?
*I think it was pop....yes, the Hinoi Team, among others.  [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9i3VCVHzTAY] (sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLI)   Rain.  Streetlights hemmed by ghostly mists' detail Watch cars line up to scatter in a sense Upon their ways, and it is late, for hence We do not listen to beat music's scale Of "happy" thet I'd smile for ere, the pale Eye of these sent'nels blacker night'd fringe thence Our silent what? as he talks of defense In sheer forgetting, like I knew'd avail. None knew quite why my cellphone's covrage poor, And I suppose in retrospect, laughed to Themselves for how I'd sit there so demure Without my ride, the libry's bench wet too, Me wrestling with that slim device sans cure. I oiled my boots for sloshing puddles' crew. 03Apr17a
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
How the Progressives Cut Us Off
Once upon a time we had the hymnal propped by the kitchen sink so's I could learn; years later Mum would sing along with me, and now...I like never but once in a blue moon dare to sing aloud, for missing her to tears. (sonnet #MMMMMMCCXLVII) What's happened to--me?  Rainy hours detail Thet eye with silver's touch while green lawns fence The minutes fog obscures by vague suspense With softest carpets rolled out to avail, And I'm not erm, my own in sheer betrayl; Erst naked trees lost to mists' whitish sense Of yonder, I could shiver, and do hence, Cuz in a blink I'm his upon that scale. One comment like my wont five days ere, poor As what?  now he distracts aught hours 'til through Suggestion I am giggling, sober, tour His deepest sorrows, and maunt say he'd woo?! Of course, I'm better searching violets, fer All that.  Let purple wink low, saying we knew. 05Apr17b
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
So I Sang Loudly Oer the Dinner Dishes
A normal couple during the week, But when the weekend comes, They cancel all that bores them both, And to passion they succumb, She bathes in water full of roses, Soaking up the essence, While he chills out, Afew quick drinks then unwraps his **** present, Thet meet at home, the kitchen sink, Their first of many meetings, Then living room, where he comes first, Her mouth licks up his greeting, Theback yard table plays the host to we, hot loving passion, Where she comes next, then to their room, She models **** fashion, They warp themselves around eachother,sweat just makes it better, They probe their bodies, grinding down, The scent makes her get wetter, Before they know it, Monday's here, And in comes that routine, They kiss goodbye, head off to work, and crave next Friday,s meeting :)
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Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 4:32 AM UTC
weekend delights
...might as well be? (sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXXXV) Lo, now the moon peers in to splash a pale Glance 'cross Mum's carpet, up my legs and thence Upon these silent hands sans voice, a sense Thet silver eye just watches, what'd avail? The Scriptures. As tree silhouettes detail Nigh ghastly clouds with blackened figures, hence Recall "...one glory of the sun--" fr'intents: "...Another of the moon--" what, in betrayl? Forsooth. I am not Mum, nor shall in poor Scuse ever match up. Yet what should I do? My aunt sez God has me still here as twere To do His will. I can't but own tis true. Dreams, prayrs, half mock what is. Whatever, fer All that is my work? Someday swear I knew? 09Jul17a
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:27 PM UTC
It's Not Exactly "Strangers In The Night--"
Like, huh?! (sonnet #MMMMMMMMMDCCLVII) So I'm, oh nevermind, just what sans bail I ever was, the ep'thet of good sense: "Not good enough," regardless all pretense, Still mine to own despite my efforts. They'll Laugh in my face and pat my head to scale, So full of it they never think but thence I must be likewise, when I'm not. Come hence. Let me go lose myself in woods t'avail. I'll listen to the crew of fallen stir Beneath my footsteps, looking up unto Deep blue skies twixt the naked branches, fer A vision of beyond. The turmoil through Their madness let me now forget as twere. Oh LORD, restore my soul. I wait for You. 23Sep25a
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Sep 26, 2025
Sep 26, 2025 at 9:33 AM UTC
She Had the Gall to Ask
a bus ride to somewhere tranquil or at least to somewhere less loud i look high or tired or a combination of both                               what is the word...                                                          there.                                                      pa-thet-ic maybe traveling with an empty stomach helped because normally i would've puked banana bread and tea by now                            i've always hated shaky                                 drives and the smell of                                                       air freshener do you hear all the noise too there's a madman shouting in my ear, a ****** karaoke tune and a tiny voice saying                                        you're immaterial repeatedly                                                    or is it just me how do you function when you feel like you've lost an arm except in my case it's my brain that's been missing                                  you should see my stash                                                        of milk cartons
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Dec 20, 2016
Dec 20, 2016 at 5:00 AM UTC
banana bread
a bus ride to somewhere tranquil or at least to somewhere less loud i look high or tired or a combination of both                               what is the word...                                                          there.                                                      pa-thet-ic maybe traveling with an empty stomach helped because normally i would've puked banana bread and tea by now                            i've always hated shaky                                 drives and the smell of                                                       air freshener do you hear all the noise too there's a madman shouting in my ear, a ****** karaoke tune and a tiny voice saying                                        you're immaterial repeatedly                                                    or is it just me how do you function when you feel like you've lost an arm except in my case it's my brain that's been missing                                  you should see my stash                                                        of milk cartons
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You are allowed to laugh, I've heard it is good medicine. (sonnet #MMMMMCMXCII) Alas. I cherish too much, in a sense, October's pale eye, and how in betrayl Thet lonely yellow leaf 'non skitters, frail And hapless 'cross the blacktop, lost from hence Within grey shadows as cold winds breathe thence In careless fashion through worn Maples' hale Stance, green, orange-kissed and whispring of ne bail Whilst Death walks silent through this vague suspense. These blue skies wear a cloudless mien as twere, Yet blinding echoes of thin fragments do Some tour of duty in their backdrop fer Good measure. Yellow gladrags dance, the crew Of staid leaves fragile. But I love't all, poor As saying is, only wanting, yessir: You. 24Oct16a
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Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
Dad Asked What Would Make Me Happier--
I have to say I am tired of people looking . On the outside! G'd what terrible words thet are! I am more, It hurts my pride! I am a girl, a woman who had to fight To live my own life, don't I have that right? Why do I have to explain to everyone that I like men! Why do I have the feeling I have to pick up a pen? To tell once and for all my face is not the real me Why can't people see??????????
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Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 2:05 PM UTC
don't judge a book by its cover!!!!!!!!!!
Flowing like the water baby This is what his problem Maybe take the world it makes you crazy This is what is to me. Astronauts become so lazy they don't tell us thet there leaving. Can I get a kiss goodbye or something that you always tell me. Lies, lies lies,lies That's all I hear! Die,die, die, die Or disappear Hook: I'm so out of here I disappear I disappear Shine your light ,shine your light!! Be Reveal... Be revealed.... Pridefulness is what you want You cover up the goldly stuff And satans gunna make you lunch So foolish when it comes to this Son of God we need your love Like a whole in one that's playing cause I never seen the difference of A perfect one to helps cause Lies(4x) That's all we hear Die(4x) Or disappear Hook: I'm so out of here I disappear I disappear Shine your light ,shine your light!! Be Reveal... Be revealed
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Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Be Revealed..
L14: No, ***** but...enjoy the moment. (sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCLXXVIII) The mourning dove ere twilight yield calls, whence Orange winks upon thet waking thought's detail, And lo, I hear it softly coo.  Grey mists in frail Nigh ghostly touch a thin suggestion, thence Do maples faintly shiver in suspense? I thank the LORD for that voice on the pale First notes of whither, erst wont to avail My soul, and dawn sifts through to crown that sense. How Joey worked "each day this week," yet fer All that's forever on my mind.    What, to Effect, now does the culver's song as twere Mean?  How I used to know.  Or thought I knew. Now like a memry of sweet days lost, poor Though what be?  Does it bless our hopeful dew? 05Jul17b
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Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 8:16 PM UTC
There's Something Sweet About Being: Still.
i like people doing what they want to do i can’t stand people copying me cause to me, thet are very very nerdy i think mum is too respecting of people too caring cause i don’t want to meet my mates when i am 70 i prefer to be living in adelaide or maybe even hollywood have my own television sitcom i am a slob but i am no controller if you want to tell me to stop just think, i won’t listen, i am a hard case my house isn’t too bad ya see i get it cleaned once a week ya see i don’t have to do the family thing for the simple reason, i haven’t got a family ha ha ha ha you see i hate people playing with knives knives are used to **** people with it is horrible to **** people, HORRIBLE I ain’t getting killed, i want people to stop saying brian’s not a cool kid i know how not to **** people off i like computers, they are more fun than teasing and punching people write it out of ya, i am straight i don’t like koomarris or norms cuddling up to me, i am not gay i am as straight as a knife, i don’t want people feel they have got to muck with me those people are losers anyway don’t **** and don’t pity, i don’t do that kind of thing i was telling someone voices, but i didn’t want any pity from it i am a computer **** kid, my family are off to bed, so they can be left alone, what losers are they you feel better sleeping on the chair like me i hate nobody but horrible fighters, teasers and robbers i am a nice kid, who really knows how to behave, (yeah like a buffoon) i don’t like people living in the past with me, saying my brother and mummy are still cool kids they are complete and utter losers, but i don’t **** them off, causer in life, i am happy they are angry i am happy they are angry, if patrick mucks with my mum, i will walk past his house and blast heavy metal music or stan right to her head, there is no such thing as an adult i am a cool person, too old to be a kid, i liked patricks voice back then, it is just mum and dad were worried about me, rightly so, but i am loving life, people who go to bed, just go to bed to die i liked patrick, because he teased in a cool way but i hate his voice now, because i do what i wanna do i am not into being bullied around, just because i don’t (quotey fingers) go to bed, sleeping on the couch is what all famous people do, i haven’t got a family, so i am hiding from you, and then they say your father isn’t around to protect you anymore briany, so watch your step, i understand when i was young but now i know how to behave, like a nice person, who wants to help the poor by helping at common ground and maybe just maybe, DONATE a few tapestries
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
i can't stand people copying me
i like people doing what they want to do i can’t stand people copying me cause to me, thet are very very nerdy i think mum is too respecting of people too caring cause i don’t want to meet my mates when i am 70 i prefer to be living in adelaide or maybe even hollywood have my own television sitcom i am a slob but i am no controller if you want to tell me to stop just think, i won’t listen, i am a hard case my house isn’t too bad ya see i get it cleaned once a week ya see i don’t have to do the family thing for the simple reason, i haven’t got a family ha ha ha ha you see i hate people playing with knives knives are used to **** people with it is horrible to **** people, HORRIBLE I ain’t getting killed, i want people to stop saying brian’s not a cool kid i know how not to **** people off i like computers, they are more fun than teasing and punching people write it out of ya, i am straight i don’t like koomarris or norms cuddling up to me, i am not gay i am as straight as a knife, i don’t want people feel they have got to muck with me those people are losers anyway don’t **** and don’t pity, i don’t do that kind of thing i was telling someone voices, but i didn’t want any pity from it i am a computer **** kid, my family are off to bed, so they can be left alone, what losers are they you feel better sleeping on the chair like me i hate nobody but horrible fighters, teasers and robbers i am a nice kid, who really knows how to behave, (yeah like a buffoon) i don’t like people living in the past with me, saying my brother and mummy are still cool kids they are complete and utter losers, but i don’t **** them off, causer in life, i am happy they are angry i am happy they are angry, if patrick mucks with my mum, i will walk past his house and blast heavy metal music or stan right to her head, there is no such thing as an adult i am a cool person, too old to be a kid, i liked patricks voice back then, it is just mum and dad were worried about me, rightly so, but i am loving life, people who go to bed, just go to bed to die i liked patrick, because he teased in a cool way but i hate his voice now, because i do what i wanna do i am not into being bullied around, just because i don’t (quotey fingers) go to bed, sleeping on the couch is what all famous people do, i haven’t got a family, so i am hiding from you, and then they say your father isn’t around to protect you anymore briany, so watch your step, i understand when i was young but now i know how to behave, like a nice person, who wants to help the poor by helping at common ground and maybe just maybe, DONATE a few tapestries
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The drama is Korean and called "Save The Last Dance For Me."  I loved it until the final episode. (sonnet #MMMMMMDXIII) I watched those silver curtains whose thin veil Down in the valley blotted trees with thence But ghostly figures 'hind thet rainy sense Of nowhere, while the greener Maples' tale Just whispered on this hilltop like to scale, And thought dreams were too pretty hence Wrapt up with love in those refrains, til whence? But how we punished these in sheer betrayl. La.  Why must even dramas skew in poor Excuse the heroine?  She suffered to Effect and then some, 'til when fin'lly fer All that they had all, she was crippled through The villain.  Wherefore must we ruin as twere E'en that?  The rain gone, midnight glowrs, deep blue. 23Jul17
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Jul 24, 2017
Jul 24, 2017 at 8:25 PM UTC
Am I Allowed to Call It Overkill?
(sonnet #MMMMMMMCCXLIII) So, if I wait until the morrow, pale As aught excuse, we might continue thence This theme: I meant to scribble--for intents. Espresso. With sweet conversation, bail For many years, passe, lost in betrayl Since April was't? This morning likeas hence We'd never ceased, I sip with Dad, a sense Of sweeter hours in tow as if t'avail. And Wordsworth oer last bits of coffee, to Effect where Sunday afternoon in tour Could don a sense of happier years we knew When Mum was still with us. O tis a poor Suggestion. I cooked lunch with mishaps fer Reminders of the LORD's great mercies: new. 24Jun18
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
Lo, Now Thet Gloaming's Blueish
hi. [funny thing about chancing upon that particular title is my first boyfriend used to wrestle with my brothers and I] (sonnet #MMMMMMDCXCV) Ah, silver twilight! mists like to a veil Down in the valley, maples nod from hence Their greener boughs as rain 'non whispers thence-- That voice my soul harks unto, low and frail Yet oh, how sweet! If only in betrayl I could 'gain lose me on that haunting sense Which tugs at nary sleeve, yet knows fr'intents What I sae yearn t'embrace, light waxing pale. My brother sez thet all does change as twere, Um, after we are one, though neither to Effect know truly, 'cept by what, in poor 'Scuse, others say. The Word of God is true. I'm sick of waiting...yet. Leaves dimly stir, This half-light all I cherish, without you. 14Oct17c
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 7:23 PM UTC
I'm So Very Sick Of Wrestling
Yo.   [L1 the "he/his" is my father when I exuberantly said it looked like...April.] (sonnet #MMMMMMCXIX) Ah me!  His short reply:  "It's February." dense With aye, signifcance--oh!  but how these pale Yet baby-blue fresh skies white cloud puffs trail Across in, like to ice floes' vague pretense Upon some vast sea, whilst the sparrows thence Chirp gaily, distant as the fragile scale Of golden warmth's note--heavn's eye in detail Thus proffers--hints of April in aught sense! Come, feel it in your bones, nor say tis poor! Tree skeletons' long naked boughs splashed to Effect shift as thet purplish touch haunts fer A space cloud islands and oh!  Say we knew. Yes, I still cherish these, whileas the moor Lies frozen, glad tis cuz I miss Mum too. 01Feb17a
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Feb 2, 2017
Feb 2, 2017 at 10:16 PM UTC
Who Cares If Groundhog Day Is Tomorrow?
...miss Andrew.  L14:  Will didn't? (sonnet #MMMMMMCCLXV) Ya, moonlight at my feet whileas in pale Excuse strings whine oer how I slumber thence? The violin half shrieking, thet eye hence Just stares down through my window to detail My auld duvet as if on purpose, frail White on the side I allus choose, a sense Of what? 'non waiting in sheer silence, whence Note how, and switch the radio off to scale. I'm hungry now tis midnight--is that poor? Twa sips of coffee, cold and stale ist too?-- Twelve hours 'go when twas fresh---and who cares fer All that by now?  Not me.  Let Shakespeare do Up lines none read cuz oh! we love as twere His plays.  We don't, at that.  But ah, who knew? 13Apr17c
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 1:15 AM UTC
One Big Fat WHOCARES? And I--Forget It
AS he wrote baad grammr t machine went spat toomyx my lowe igo I think you thin kI caseto care. I ‘s iddll explain. So yu yeware witness,ywhsitory. U diedred thet right.? See u tut yuelwwlle Tr..,i Samuel Kj, Bazz
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Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
Tuteleloutu32
TEARS in MA HEART From a distance I c a baby in d strit cryin in cold and all alone, it seems he's mama is gone and no one to show him love, he's gat ear's like a rabbit and hair coiled like that of thet arabics, from a distance i can c hunger boldly writen in his face and it seems he has been left alone 2 die in a place meant 4 waste. i can see people passing by but no one care 4 dis baby, d baby cried louder and louder but no one seems 2 hear. i feel big deal for this baby and i can feel ma heart crying 4 dis baby. since no one cared or heared The loud cry of dis baby in d street how can anyone feel my depression, My pain or hear the silent cry for dis baby in my heart.
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 5:04 AM UTC
TEARS IN MY HEART
Little girl falls down And hit’s the ground Tears in her green eyes Doesn’t know of lies Only the sun and the wind In her hair Doesn’t know Deaths hand Is there About to take her away She only feels the pain In her knee Later on she will see Falling from the tallest of mountains She was shouting For someone to save her As Deaths hand swept her up Put her on his wings Made her sing Made her sing She had trusted that thet would keep her safe But that day She died just a little inside She tried to hide The memories away She couldn’t know that Someday They come bring her pain Back She would remember The cold nights of December Falling from the tallest of mountains She was shouting For someone to save her As Deaths hand swept her up Put her on his wings Made her sing Made her sing And the cold nights air Sent chills down her spine Her mind was mine We were one The damage had been done She was Death I was her We were one Nothing left but the shadows But we had eachother To rule the night The spirits will fight But you'll be alright Reaping the dead It's in her head She was born to be She was part of me Falling from the tallest of mountains She was shouting For someone to save her As Deaths hand swept her up Put her on his wings Made her sing Made her sing
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Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 3:43 PM UTC
Death