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The Smoker's Lounge

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Untitled

They go marching at the slightest of commands
Like hired guns paid in carnage
all they want is a taste
a taste of you at your worst
the sight of your last breath
as it condenses in the cold air
like your soul being set free
as your body becomes theirs
they'll take as they please
Posted by -JST- at 8:37 PM

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Blog Archive

  • ►  2011 (3)
    • ►  March (2)
      • Change of Venue
      • Color Scheme
    • ►  February (1)
      • Like she was plucked from a picture and placed the...
  • ▼  2009 (12)
    • ▼  December (1)
      • Untitled
    • ►  August (2)
      • 30 Days of Darkness
      • The Mourning Dove
    • ►  July (1)
      • Like You Knew Me
    • ►  June (4)
      • If Only a Whisper
      • So Many Miles, So Short a Distance
      • Longing for the Light
      • Our Last Moments
    • ►  May (1)
      • The Warmth
    • ►  February (3)
      • The Depot
      • Rain Drops and Heartbeats
      • The Marksman (I Call it Aim)
  • ►  2008 (14)
    • ►  September (1)
      • Singing I Wish You Were Here
    • ►  June (1)
      • Live with Love
    • ►  April (7)
      • Monsters
      • Hangman
      • Crown of Daisies
      • The Road Away from Pain
      • Dolson Avenue Graveyard
      • Kiss Me Good
      • Live Your Life
    • ►  March (2)
      • And They Say Time Heals
      • The Moon Up High
    • ►  February (3)
      • Decadence of the Masses
      • Nobody's Perfect
      • Welcome

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