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Sweets of Death


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The bread has a bed inside of my head 

While they sing to the dead for nights on end.

 

Nobody knows how the melody goes

But the power, it grows, from their heads to their toes

 

And then we awake to the smell of the cake

We decide to bake, lots of sweets we will make.

 

I follow you home, where you're completely alone

You're chilled to the bone and your reflexes are slown.

 

Becoming as cold as slate, soon seeing the gate,

One little mistake, your final request to 'wait'

 

In a quick little flash, everything turns turns to ash

No victor is here, what remains is fear

 

There hardly was a clash, and I leave with a dash

No one will cheer, but now on others we leer

 

This isn't the end, and none can defend

Against our neverending fight to show them the light
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  • 8 months later...

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