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Rebecca Darkness drapes our memory over words spoken in anger. Control it not, your urge to strike out, overwhelms the consequence. Like the pull of the trigger, the round loosed, you can't take it back, and forever, in hearts hollow, we remain. Lighten my pain, it does not, the attack direct, still reeling from the impact, until your uttered it, I wasn't sure. Like the bullet, it's too late, and the time has come, for me, to go to hell. |
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