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Nostalgia And The
Cursed |
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The toll of midnight strikes
As passion taunts me in my sleep
Her legs so pale and slender rend me
Arisen and primed to feed
Under the moonlit clear night skies
I find her awaiting me
Her satin, lace and leather, reveal
A heaven and its Seraphic lead |
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Above the world we writhe
Our limbs performing many scenes
Of lust and lore that many thought
To be acts of filth, debauched
A bloodlust fills my eyes
The scarlet lenses fully formed
I lay my kiss upon the pulsing throat
With lips and fangs and more... |
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Over many nights I sate my
thirst and avenge the crimes
The kin of those heartless hunters in my
sight
With a taste for sweet revenge I play the
hand of fate
Swindling the odds through time to beat her
cruel game |
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In trancelike state with a
devil tonight they dine
Beneath my smile burns a malice cold as ice
Without compassion I take my fill of their
precious wine
And leave them deflowered in my arms and
drained of life... |
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