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Torn in Thorns
Tie his lands to the shrew
Screw his hands behind the crew
Let, scream their bellies on the shrewd

Reminisce in death- sore
The grave casts the days of yore
Honking tales spell folklore

Whimper, croak and do
Wrench his charms and go
The rose,
Hear

Wrap and bleed
Amidst his fingers and flesh
Sheaths of muscles hug his hands

He looked twice and buckled
It stands in his gaze, it steals
Laugh, don't touch and cry

She- weeps for the moon. Ask.
Outstretched arms chokes up a river,
Calls upon like a siren. Run.
Let a maiden blaze like the sunset. Hide.

Roses bleed hexed desires
Run, see one
Fleet fluttering feet and fling

Let and be
Beauty stays in the garden.

#Alettertoyouall