The unspoken words, yet continuos thoughts. The forbidden deeds, but the most desirable in spite of a peace of conscience.
Ah, the rage! It's a blaze. The euphoria and the feeling of power, so tangible.
Creep, all those spiderwebs are trapping you inside.
Wild child running free, yet not visible before the naked eye, an emotion.
so much rage far or away from love?
Kill, Kill, Kill, see the bloodshed. Would that quench this everlasting thirst?
The fear and the tears on the opponents eyes. Crushing. A plethora of unexplainable pain injected into the veins, unspoken.
Ah, Rage in the verge of transforming into its physical state.
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2 commentaires:
Cuando un hombre le pone la mano a tu madre encima...te amarga, te endiabla, te dan ganas de matar, la sangre te hierve, la cabeza te explota.
yo lo se...yo lo se
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