i curse thee with a taste of thine own medicine
By Aixerona
may a damned soul curse the drops of winter rain that fall upon thy hateful face and haunt thee til midnight silence sounds to thee as chilling cries and piercing screams til midnight darkness looks to thee as would macabre, ghastly ghouls and may they come to rip thine mortal coil from limb to limb, take thy soul to burn and watch: not half the pain thou did'st cause me. Written March 8th, 2002 © on Mar 08 2002 01:46 PM PST, Sarah Bernard 0 • 10
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"may a damned soul..."