The Cell

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Twisted souls,
broken beyond repair..
I am Death,
judge and jury of sinners that cause despair..
Do nothing,
try to fight and deal if you prefer..
It makes no difference,
there is no redemption for the corrupted and impure..
Swooping down,
from my perch above..
I shall rip your soul from your chest to deposit into a cell,
full of the pain your pathetic existence caused..

- C. Pantoja

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