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03-04-2012, 11:24 AM
Post: #1
they sing their hymns of darkness broke
like cancer gardens blooming thick
beyond the terrible glass shapes
which seperate mattress and sky

sun makes whores of virgin stones
distant trees undress to dance
though men rise like dead christians
i am the stubbornest old corpse

there must be some beauty in pain
to keep the sad alive so long
mental patients and prophets
denying dawn's fragile vows
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