June 11, 2017


Wither away into maggots, wither away into desolation. Break your body, break your soul.


Blow out the flame sweet Margaret, let it all be for naught. Live in squalor; happiness but a floating thought. Grip your neck tight, your fingers held firmly — the rope creaks.


Let the end inside, sweet Margaret, let it end my sweet Margaret……all for naught.


But be joyful. For my love, this desolation will come to a sad respiteful end. Your suffering, your tears that hugged your face every night and morning — it would come to an end dear Margaret. Your eyes can finally rest my love. Your soul can finally stop the agony my love; you will be free.


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