excerpt. 13

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by ludensnakes

by ludensnakes

                                    
                                              I'm standing in front of a holy temple.
My bones and my blood are pure flammable.
why can't you rid me of this chalice?
why can't you let me pass from this torment?
I pray and pray and pray, and the
black skies become darker and
darker.
how can I come clean?
you're my best memory.