Redprisma http://prismcell.blogspot.com/
Mag 27: The Wails of a Rusty Pipe
Time passes, Iron decays, My purpose is fading, my structure eaten away. See the way I cry when I'm put to work? It only eats at me more, It only hurts. Everyday I wait for the moment, when they will take me off this wall and I cease to ferment. The fires of hell I hear men speak, sound wonderful and pleasant, Oh what a treat! To be rid of this rust, This dust and blue, To be awakened and reborn, To be once again anew. What could be worse than flame? For so many seem afraid. To remain stagnant, To always be the same.
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