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LESSER EVILS
Private Notes
Private Notes
Notes
Lesser evils have sat on your throne
Those unworthy of inflicting such pain
For you relish in the way that we moan
If death is your game; success you attain
Quiet as a mouse, but brutal and sick
You have brought to earth a frigid hell
Death drags on, never is it quick
Freed is nobody from their cell
Bodies melt in the burning fire
Screams of the living are never heard
You feel like a God and rule your empire
The line between life & death becomes blurred
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