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Poetry News Post #4354

Incinerate

Written by: Mistress Mystara D'Aud'tore, Initiate of Mind and Spirit
Date: Tuesday, July 16th, 2013
Addressed to: Everyone


Burnt to a crisp,
cleansed of my sins,
wash away the filth
purify the soul.
Lend me your heart,
so I may trample it,
and feast on the flesh
of your innocent frame.

Wails of the sun,
call out for forgiveness
and a lost child am I
begging for a treat.
Douse me in flames,
my unholy savior,
and make me beg
for the screams to cease.

Make an incision,
bleed out on the ground,
until not a drop
remains in this form.
Make me feel
the wounds that I gave,
make me see
the bones that I shattered.

Let me cry,
the tears that you shed,
but no tears had fallen
just screams of torment.
The knife I wielded
only I was stabbed,
melt away my sins,
and roast me slowly.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Lupar, in the year 630 AF.


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