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A Short Poem By Jaleel McClain
The Old Key IS STILL IN PROGRESS, APPRECIATE YOU ALL.

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Around, all around, the angels gather.

My dread grows as the angry hand of Heaven falls against my naked soul.

It smites me, and my darkly life's blood drips

to the wicked earth that is my prison.

In unholy terror I beg forgiveness

while my doom laughs cruelly.

Now alone, my soul falls upon darkened eyes.

This is Hell.

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