Horrible foe, my mirror self, starring back at me, wishing away the tomorrow, purged of the inner bile, forged in the cataclysmic decay of today, we are few, we are nothing, the flow of a movement is delayed on the indifference of your breath, rotten like your soul, you are my decay, while I am your disease…
A Horrible Foe – Unhinged Poem
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Twisted Roads - Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks 
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