Wednesday, August 29, 2007

butterflies... torn at the wing...

blood tears drip from my sallow cheeks... i have stopped feeding... the metallic taste lingers on my tired tongue... Torch has become melancholy and boring... there are greater things to be found i suppose but my heart barely beats in this starvation... i will remain inside the castle doors... we will build reinforcements... where the hell is Young One... this too shall pass.

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