Friday, February 13, 2009

Unborn Contortion Comments

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Condoned these anxiety’s as I taste the salt thus fallen to the back of my throat
I want to grip this fear in fists of fire and bleed the breaking skin as blood doth float
A tendency to rip to the soul and cleanse with flame abolish all cowardice rendered
To touch that which reaps the pain and feel the furies anthologies so distempered
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Vision Ghost

Vision Ghost

Epsom, East Surrey
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