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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #1431980 |
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You'll all be dead
Long 'fore I'm gone I'll kill you all Rip flesh from bone I won't be swift I won't give in I'll draw it out In perfect sin They'll not find what's left Because there'll be naught I know my craft well I'll never be caught I'll just keep killing and killing Why? I'll not tell And by the time I depart I'll continue in Hell
© Copyright 2008 Ceri~hiatus for senior year (UN: mw1993 at Writing.Com).
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