Decaying from the core

He ran alone on the wood

Taking his soul to knock

On the walls only door

Liquid skin he pours 

Through the hole 

The golden key bored

The band played no sound 

Dreaming of the final breath

He shrieked to the end 

Of colours and sounds

The love devoured by hunger

He woke with a sweet wet sleep

To lie half dead on the ground

Where warriors fire a c chord 

Flame to hide the pin pricks dent 
Francie Mcgivney 03.05 ,2015

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