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Updated on April 30, 2015

From my pen befalls the kiss of death, I'll make my mark on thee

The horns of the wicked cannot be disguised, I'll discount your closing plea

The anticlimax of my fertile imagination, will house you in a haunted sleep

Devour your casement, gash out your tongue and leave your eyes to weep

Death does not come without appropriate cause, you sold your soul to evil

A victim of your own malicious claws, due sentence from the devil

The horror of bitter grudges like something from the dim

In convulsive tremors you'll pay the piper, dismembered limb from limb

Holy hatred hesitant to wrath, has touched its boiling stage

I'll close the book with your parting breath ~ Compensation on the page.


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