he would sit silent, sit tall in the living room on the sofa.
sit unpretty.
the deity lied so far.
he's been picky and threaty.
his words are sharp swords, and his voice' harsh.
his affection's freezing cold.
he'd wish to join up the black parade, it's a rush.
his devotion is tricky, his desires are bold.
lex luther
© Copyright: Неттер Линг, 2024
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