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Modestly the blood was dawdling,
Covering Portion by portion,
The entire living corpse,
Charged by tranquillisers called drugs.
A corpse, which turns alive,
By the perfidious aroma of that tranquillity,
Until one day, the brain choked,
The heart alarmed,body was exhausted.
And that blood, the blood in suffering,
The blood in utter pain,
Now gradually came out.
The pain in red,
Was finally flowing out,
Leaving its body forever.
The body,of which the blood,
Was once an integral part,
But the demonic pain,
Pain called stress,
Suffocated the blood,
Packed it up with toxic tranquillity,
And the blood had nowhere to go,
Hence gave up,
left the living corpse,
To die alone.
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