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A shadow above my thoughts you hang with such delicasy and perpertual calm.
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Bring me into your oblivion, show me through the gates of your mount Olympus or give me crumbs of broken bread to feed my happiness.
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i crave to lay beside you at night
turn off the clammering thoughts -
i sat upon the silk of her lies.
trembeled from the coldness of her tone. -
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Butchers hands, stutter not as they slide their knife into loins of fleshby SamieD7 18 lines, on Oct 25 8:14 PM 2008. In Our Everyday War
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