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A Poem for the Twisted: The Awakened Masochist
Strapped in a chair, coldest of ice
In a room where hideous monsters reside
Heaving roughly as the electricity shock me from the straps,
Despise should I have, confusion was I wrapped.
Pain and agony should it be, but why love and...
In a room where hideous monsters reside
Heaving roughly as the electricity shock me from the straps,
Despise should I have, confusion was I wrapped.
Pain and agony should it be, but why love and...
