Poem #35

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Relax little king, my child I won't let you rot.
So square minded and simple.
I am to be you, have you forgot?
Your denial sits on you like a pimple.

Unmask the abyss from the robe,
Watch them turn into crows and fly away.
To the undead, your energy is a strobe.
Such a beautiful light, such an array.

Engulf you in my flame, for you know my name.
You know what you are, speak your piece.
You're beautiful and unique, yet you feel shame.
Your hidden fur and red eyes, we will not cease.

Your mark was a gift, not a curse.
Why is that?
You make it seem like much worse.
What side will it satisfy at?

Losing yourself to my hunger, it's also yours.
Sharing the same blood, both are beautiful beasts.
A human hellhound, I am to be your endures.
Lose yourself to my rage, the many souls to feast.

He controls you, yet you fight him. 
You know what you are and what I am, give in.
I only want to protect you, don't be so grim.
So young and pure to our soul, I'm no saint nor sin.

They wouldn't understand.

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