And it was as if an angel, stood now before me
Beckoning with his gnarled hand
And I did follow
And with my barren hands
Did I wring the life from this wretched creature
All remorse retreating on a tide
Of red
Those dark wings did curl
A look of horror painted across the face
A smell......?
Petrol.
Matches.
Need matches.
Ignite.
Burn the corpse.
Come.
Join me, warm yourselves by the fire
Let's celebrate.
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