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“Loose Cipher “| 022620222105
Tipped, off
Nervous ticks talk on
Top of the scoff
Your cough should’ve covered
~666 mil scythe sics
‘Til all are still, sick
So you slip on
Sloppy whisper licks,
Trip over the water walk
Only one foot sticks to;
Fall before the
After thought you fought
Against, its false instincts
Then all the sins you
Dip into flip over
The wishes you’ve
Since shipped, so
Rowing through even the
Thickest skins, odds are
Your holy boat is drinkin’
Spilled Styx drips
But if you’re quick, you’ll
Sip it up ‘fore your
Fishes sink, or fill
It in with selfish plugs
And through Devilish,
Loose-cipher quips
As if Lucifer itself
Is listening in...
Well... Holy Hell...
Then isn’t it?
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