Bitter Cold
Shadowed silence come to me,
breeding fiends from bitter
beings.
Ominescent under this light
of the soft lit crescent.
Dread not what men do,
withered, hithered to
and unborn pass,
cadaverous,
funereal crimson hue.
Abomination, an ascertation,
how I weep,
I long for sleep,
this paradise of
euthanasia.
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