Her eyes are like hunters
They are dark and piercing
In them hide the darkness of all winters
In the sensation of a pale sigh
She is trapped in a meager piece of freedom
They are unaware of her world, testing the power to nullify life, cycle of cardiac travel
Many evil optical eyes chase her
They have the fuse of hate ready to use
Crappy mouths of primary hells
Own their unpalatable survival
It is followed by the steps of the value judgment
The mutters of abuse run from the corners of his mouth
Her fingers, daggers, remain static
She turns… Those eyes could dip into the cup of jugular blood on the day of confession
Her corrosive thoughts swallow what irritates
Pure fury

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