She was kidnapped by her doppelganger.
Strangled behind the loveseat in the home of a paramour,
Disguised as a stiff suit with blackjack eyes.
Ah, yes, those dancing orbs she called eyelids.
Blinking misfortune, something like ten million to one.
You'd think her burning hair would wear her head like the grande finale'
But no. No. No.
She just laid there.. fear escaping her lips like whimpers of help.
The enemies gates slamming shut, with her inside.
She is unreachable.
Her body strung up like a Auschwitz ballerina.
The fields cause seizures within her mind.
Hands bleeding as they rub off on the pole
"Arbeit macht frei."
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