The stench from the forest
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Of burning skin
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Bringing memories back
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From ancient Sacrifices
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It has been centuries
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Since I left my body
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But I still live
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Through the sound of torture
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My sense falls to the depths of
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Filth, pain and suffering
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Which is feeding my inspiration
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To my art of undead human corpse sculpture
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I taste the evil
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To satisfy my mental hunger
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If I wasn't immortal I would be dead (again)
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For the last time
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No one will ever know
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What it was that swallowed eternity
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A shadow will come from the past
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And take me
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-----------------
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Poetry From Poisoned Mind
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Armagedda |