Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Soul-Less

Follow the sickly sweet voice down the slope of slumber.
Rest and relax in death.
Think of nothing but yourself.
How you feel, what satisfies you, your secret sins of destruction.
Nothing else matters. You can't change the world.
You're a flickering light at its wicks end.

You've given me your soul; didn't you know?

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