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4/05/2012

The whispers husk
Against the grain of each
Motion.
Believe it
Convulsing in the shadows
Dead but for a few small breaths.
It shudders with each word
Of truth you refuse to
Recognize.
It sinks it's teeth,
Venom soaked,
Into your brain
And leaves its rot
Festering
In your scarless eardrums.

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