Title unknownA Poem by James cross
Tis not your flesh that I seek, its your blood that i crave,
No matter the struggle, your soul i shall deprave. Your body bled dry, your bones ground to dust, your rotting corpse is naught but a bust. © 2013 James cross |
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Added on October 30, 2013 Last Updated on October 30, 2013 |

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