Rapture

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The soul is ripped from the body
Like muscles torn from bone.
Torrid screeches of agony resonate
Like perpetual precussions 
Blood oozes from gaping slashes
Like winter-time monsoons
Petrified eyelids twitch to the 
Rhythm of instrumental metal
Heart's pulses echo the thumping
Of determined beats of a drum
Till the last beat draws with it 
The final breath of a disdainful life.

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