As the night approaches, I sit and listen to what my shadow has to say. Looking at my watch in disbelief on how fast seconds speed away. Fingers have a tingling sensation. Memories start to fade, a turnstile spins away, I feel it but cannot explain it, but like a watchful Doberman, I can smell it. I am short of breath, my mind is hyperventilating…
Thinking of you makes it hard to breathe, there is a lack of oxygen in the streets. I see the greed in your so-called acts of good faith, what you call a good deed. You would murder your own seed if it stood in the way of what you need. If evil had a smell, then stinking you would be or worse, if hell did not belong to Satan then it would be yours.
You are a demon in disguise; it hurts to believe that at one point I called you a friend of mine, one that you would call best. You were like a preacher, to you is whom my sins I once confessed. You betrayed our friendship, you were my brother now you are just another…
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