To Death, to Death, we Soldiers will march.
To Death, to Death, the cure to wrent hearts.
To Death, to Death, where no ails can be.
To Death, to Death, will you march with me?
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Finite: A Book of Poetry
PoetryThe many emotions, thoughts, poems, insane ramblings, and legitimate concerns of a mortal. Warning: Most of it contains sensitive material related to death, darkness, life, monsters, puppets, idiots, and madness. Possibly much more. Hopefully much...
