Dead Wings (day 494)

Sliding along the path of garlic breath and breast implants
I rescue the old boys from the war trenches in the midst of darkness
Crawling along the carpet so soft
I send my spike into the unknowing bowels of the staunch soldier
With death as a fragrance I sing a tune in my head
Beating so hard my heart mutes out all other voices
Angels and of course the demons that cry into my ears
Send me into tomorrow upon the wings of a god

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