You are the ink that fuels my pen,
Demanding always, just another line,
And when I've written yet another ten,
You ask for more, and I cannot deny.
Saturday, 27 January 2007
Song of Blades
Under the crimson sky of mournful dusk, The song of blades, Persisted in its deadly rhythm. And night would be the only thing to last, For those of us, Whose blades failed to listen.
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