| something random
nevermind.........
It was but a symphony ,
wrapped in a dream,
of tea and sympathy,
and other deathly schemes,
ripping at their seams,
echoing the crys of the martyrs eyes,
black druidic streams of pain and sufferings,
and other self-inflicted lies,
that I dreamt between your thighs,
and the loneliness of rejection,
is the martyrs prize
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