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Friday, September 24, 2010


Don't think of the knife that waits
Shining, seductive
In broken morning light
The weapons that are as beautiful as morning dew
Beautiful as tranquility, rebirth, love & laughter
Yet the very opposite of those things I've forsaken
I hate so hard
As much as others love
Call me forgotten of Aphrodite
She rose from sea foam and turquoise water
I rose from the blackened rivers of purgatory
To seek a new hell
Queen of beauty and love
Sunshine and sexuality
You forget about me
Me lonely one, with knife in hand
This murder will be my own.

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