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Are you glad you ended his life?
His footsteps no longer mark the sand
You did what you needed to survive.
The marks he left on your then smooth, soft skin
Now drowned in his own blood,
The only true sin.
As the smile curves your chapped lips
Your mind tells you only one thing:
In this barren desert now
You remain the last to sing.
The sun shines down on your now too dry skin
Bordering almost on pain
But that final bullet you’ve got,
Will soon relieve your brain.