Bite Marks (1)A Poem by AzrielThis dreadful forever accumulating air, stifles us
slowly But now with masks and a new flesh on To shroud their
worlds of lies. They speak in tongues of fire, yet not to our
Father, To see who has
gotten the best at it. In hopes that
their fancy words And good
intentions can buy their ticket into the afterlife. Dismantling our
view of promised lands And though we struggle, We are promised to make it past this desert one day;
Hopefully soon, before my mask starts peeling off as well. © 2013 AzrielAuthor's Note
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Added on April 24, 2013Last Updated on April 24, 2013 |

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