Death

Goosebumps and shivers and dry lips, my wind – Goodbye.

Sheltered by mountains of ice, I die. I die. I die.

Oh dear old darkness!

.

He whispers in the dead of night and I cling to a dead breath

but it’s gone

Stupid eyes can’t hold dying shadows anymore.

.

Sink your teeth in hot flesh heavy until his fire dies

and the night unwraps it deadly grasp of your dying eyes.

.

.

.

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