The devils in the daughters room
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There will be no second knife
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She reached for a dream
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And he smiled as he watched her.
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She was ever so beautiful in her sleep.
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Like father (his son made in his image) her eyelids gently closed.
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Lids concealing her dreams.
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He stood over her bed
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One deep stab kill the hourglass
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Let the sand leak slowly from its body
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Draw out the time until its breathes its lastpilling
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(She cried when she found it.
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Its feathers were matted and pressed to its side.
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Its wings were no longer able.
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Still she begged it to fly.
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Its body as frail as paper and wet from her tears.
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She knelt in the damp grass praying it to heaven.
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Gently pressing its head to her heart.)
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-----------------
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Given To Dreams
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Fear Before The March Of Flames |