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Post by zanaram on Mar 15, 2013 22:38:08 GMT -5
I’m not afraid to take your life Give me a gun or hand me a knife I’ll end your days if you push some more You push me too far, you f*cking whore I know I’m lost, I’m not who I was I’ll pay the cost, I know this because I’ve paid before, to be played by you And I’ll pay it again, until flesh I cut through Your days are numbered and the numbers run low There’s hate on my mind; there’s death to bestow Your lies and your games, created my rage ‘Til you’re in a grave, I can’t turn this page Now I’ve had enough, I must be true to my words I must take your life, so I can fly with the birds Tonight’s now the night when pain will be felt A knife to your throat, or your face I may melt
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Moonlitface
Crimson Soul
"I went through Hell to be redeemed..."
Posts: 264
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Post by Moonlitface on Jul 31, 2013 2:16:24 GMT -5
Not really sure how I feel about this. Maybe you could break it up more into stanzas. I like the general idea of the poem though.
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Post by windfog on Jul 31, 2013 3:43:49 GMT -5
A brave man, if he hasn't got gun or knife, use antlers. Best regards, W.F.
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Post by Veritas on Sept 7, 2013 20:01:39 GMT -5
The ending lets you down a'little You (the reader) looks for more venom more power... show me rage, hatred ... fire
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