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| Silence |
| A scream shatters the air As one does succumb to Death One who walked by, tens at one time Stopped in place, turning to the sound But, soon after, he walked Death walked then after AS if a peddler of the streets And he does sell his wares Gruesome masks and such And many, though not in mind Buy his wares Soon after, horrid things: Silence. Now only those of the reddest blood Walk the streets Within the silence. |
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| Copyright 2001 Erin Boyle |