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Virgin Blood

My fingers bleed Gripping hold of lost love My heart is torn Grasping the shadows Of last nights passion My legs are broken I have fallen for you The redness seeps to loin cloth My mind made up I must drown my broken bleeding limbs My being is lifeless Aspirations seep slowly away Virgin dreams cut short By the soldiers sword A warrior who chose Tribe over beauty Revenge over love Hate over the rose That one day shall adorn his grave

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 8/7/2016 4:46:00 AM
Wow, I never thought about it in this fashion. Your poem is very powerful.
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Date: 7/26/2016 12:27:00 PM
powerful and very well done!
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