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| FACE OF MY COMRADE |
| The face, Of my, Comrade, Looks like, A troll, Gone mad, The... world... Became, The frame, My eyes, Spilt on, The... ink... pad... In the final Phase of Exploit My last viewpoints, Oscillating escapade No more was I in Obligation to Piss or eat Now what does that mean? Caged, in my home No more use for, panacea It was my Dia, De los Muertos... |