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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1563913
With Your Hands
I think my faith is dying
My soul's so sick of trying
Every listless moment crying
For release from all that's binding

Kill me sweetly with Your hands
Spread my ash through bitter lands
Wring me dry of all that's bad
And raise me up again

Fill me full of what is good
And help me do the thing I should
The things I thought I never could
Good things I never understood
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