Bloody, battered, scattered and strewn about
In open field you made me your quarry
An open invitation for all to see
Your claws and your fangs in all their glory
With your viciousness you prised my soul
Yet the shackles gripped even tighter
And so I sought out something new a change
A love of which I could achieve even higher
You refused to let me come back from the dead
Saw me with my face pressed towards the sky
Foolish me I took your hand as I walked the ledge
On a moment you made your final point
I was naught if but a certain kind of weak
Snickered sly showing the slightest of teeth
As once again I plummeted into the deep
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