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Click herea whiff of sulfur suffocates the senses
incinerating every ounce of peace
while crimson pieces lay in ransom
and torrid affairs lay for sale
= c l a w i n g =
her way o-u-t of my flesh
because t.r.i.g.g.e.r.i.n.g archaic gestures
of validating every wrapped opinion
is doubting every warped idea
declaring changes needed to be made
but fire's a beauty to behold
and fucking and fighting
is all the same