Thursday, February 16, 2006
I wrote this one a long time ago when mad at love and broken promises.
Cupid's Carcass On the road of bones we walk in pride. Cupid was poisoned by his own filthy arrows. The little demon in his red and pink, was asking for it, if you ask me. Cupid's carcass makes nice cobble stone decor. His wings, a nice tapestry against the cliché sun. All those hearts he wore were...
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