Bones, skin rots,
flesh, worms.
The soul is gone,
dragged by dusk.

She felt the razor
through her skin.
She is now a corpse
without a soul.

Tears sprout from her eyes
there's no humanity in flesh.
She is now a flower,
a flower of flesh and blood.

There's no escape from death.
At the end, worms will devour it all.
Storm of death,
flesh and bone.

Swim into the lakes of dark.
Smell the red flowers of death.

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