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Pulse of the Dead
by
Vicious Rumors
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Old man with an evil eye That rouses the urge to kill Seven days I gazed upon your slumber You deemed me mad A heartless b*st*rd Only a fool assumes Not induced by greed Not persuaded by hatred Only torment coerces me I will obliterate him Bury him underground Gone forever, never to be found The beckoning darkness At the stroke of midnight Overcome by fear Surmounted by my wrath The deed is donе His fate is sealed I'vе no remorse Prisoner of anguish nevermore Now I'm free, the deed is done Cold, still, pale, no pulse at all Tear them up, boards off the floor No sign at all of struggle anywhere I hear them knock on the door
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