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I drink from a cask of wild, sweet woodBonfire-smoked of Eden's treesJuiced and tart from that Apple's leesPassion's the potion that poisons my blood.
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Begins.
The cigarette is lit, the face is drawn; pen hovers over the white, white sheet, trembling slightly, whilst seconds pass into minutes, minute..
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For God says life should be destroyed,
The bounteous kiss, be it forged in love, of any w***e is void
So limbs should be rent from holding flesh
As..
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Brief, caught I, the scent of my funeral pyre
Built by those without sense of that cleansing fire
That will have it's revenge on such spare limbs as..
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Sang froid is in the literal grave installed
The dust you attempt to shake off is never there,
Unless the spittle dried on hated-face on hated-wall
..
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