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The Epitaph
It was the night when the battle turned.
The speaker sat back
There was gas in their eyes and hatred,
Blackened like needles,
Though dirty still,
And twice as sharp,
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No posts yet.
It was the night when the battle turned.
The speaker sat back
There was gas in their eyes and hatred,
Blackened like needles,
Though dirty still,
And twice as sharp,