Monday, November 5, 2012

My face is painted



My face is painted

My face is painted, painted for you.  Leather polished; tarnish rubbed away, dirt brushed from my tunic.  I wait; wait for you and your leagues. I fear not, death does not render my flesh soft trembling, weak from fear.  I embrace death, the challenge to this flesh.  I’ve killed.  Death is with me, a dear friend.  We will dance, dance, the dance of death.  This is my being, join me, I long for your embrace. I wish you luck. 
From the Ramblings.
t

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