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At the Funeral
In the dark hazes of sorrow, surrounds me some faces so somber still can't get to the gospel fumes of pleasure taught me ignited by the temptation when airs of tension filled in me prompted by anxiety in a prolonged waiting to vent the anger in a cauldron puffed the crazy vapors the white soldiers of death now laid me deep numb and silent six feet under.




























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































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