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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1671861
She hated herself, she hated him, hate is like love, it's everywhere and infectious.
Her ghost withered by the essence,
The presence of time taken away,
As the years flew by all at once,
They caught up in one second.

She took an angel in her hand,
But as came many a demand,
She had found herself dead,
By the time that devil left.

She wanted to dream again,
But he had stolen all those,
Then she wanted her life,
But alas, it is now dead.
© Copyright 2010 J. J. Williams (j.williams92 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1671861-Withered-Essence