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The horns
assuage the cornucopia of paradox feelings
exorcise the demons of disquiet
in turn my heart shall beat steady
in time my hand will be weary
oxidation of a twisted bond
corrosion of the hearts demure
unsettled in this wicked being
kindred of the unearthed
spawn of something silently reproachful
a godlike human waste
with control of a soul in flames
buried amidst this world of disdain
