Inhuman Condition
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The Mold Testament

Inhuman Condition


White hot outside, ice within
Force a malicious smile
Rope in hand, determined win
With the face of a friend

The grin fell away, hate becomes clear
The stench of rot, new king of odor
Draining the meal

Irises ringed with blood
Broken teeth, a person you trust

Soaked with death, putrid wet
Cracks in the picture glow
Abhorrent path, ignore the facts
With the face of a friend

The grin fell away, hate becomes clear
The stench of rot, new king of odor
Draining the meal

Punishment, tinged with love
No reprieve, this person you trust

Quicksand embrace

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