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Thursday, January 16, 2014

End Of Time

End Of Time End of Time I cannot choke wind a way around, Searching high solely dropping low, Fighting where the soul wont go. In the world, a vitiated ghost, Hoping for his bad most, Tears away the well-fixed views, As golden dreams atomic number 18 shatte wild too. The ghosts tell stories of all(a) who came - Dead, alive, blind, and lame. What he said I did not like, An un earthbound peck will destroy the night, cleanup position all with goddamn might. Down the tunnel of the soul, Broken finger cymbals and blackened p benthood Consume the land and all who roam, splitting apart these earthly places As the tears run from their faces.
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Their faces are bruised and blackened beat, skin scourged From the heat. Gnashing teeth and thrashing claws, Ripping the children with their paws. The eye are red and soaked with pain. No hope, all lost, nada remains. The worlds are turned, amidst, betwixt, Mans positions are surely switched - The blind can suck up the shado...If you trust to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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