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blood flows freely, though you hands,
seeping, swiftly, into blood red sands.
death is natural, so they say,
and satan laughs, and rips life away.
how you act, if you are loved,
a hand comes down, but it is gloved.
as if, it were afraid to touch,
as if, it might reveal to much.
as if, you wern't ment to see,
what turns, and twists, inside of me.

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Charon[FiDELiS]