[j. nordavind '96]
a cold sharpened blade
plunge through the skin.
death triumphant.
death the king
blood on my hands.
blood on my lips
i took the frail bliss of your eyes
and its darker than you think...
i violate.
i come at night.
my great endurance of body, mind and heart
let me take you through...
a gust of wind.
torrent of rain.
blood and semen
murder is art
the cold blade.
the cold blade. |