I killed a man and his blood was on my hands, seeping brought the cracks of my skin like water on dry land. I've done it again. I'm a murderer, then. I may as well grab my cell and call the body in.
But. . .is this man's life worth mine in tens? Wasted in the pen?
. . .I guess not - I'll just bury him instead or burn everything and never turn my head back to see the crime I committed. It's gone, it's over - I did it. There's no going back. Nothin' to do but gather my bags, cover my tracks, and hope the executioners don't catch me and throw me on the Rack.
But. . .is this man's life worth mine in tens? Wasted in the pen?
. . .I guess not - I'll just bury him instead or burn everything and never turn my head back to see the crime I committed. It's gone, it's over - I did it. There's no going back. Nothin' to do but gather my bags, cover my tracks, and hope the executioners don't catch me and throw me on the Rack.
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