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There are bells around my ankles
So you can hear the sound.
I trace a line in the cheek of a dead man
That was begging to be found.
One step is for his blood
That it continue to thrive.
Nobody had even noticed
The necromancer had arrived.
The one they call petulant
I held his hand and smiled.
Just then his heart gave out
A setback, albeit it mild.
The second step was for his mind
That it continue to strive.
There isn’t a dance for freedom
But at least he’ll be alive.
The third step is important
It calls for him to rise.
He now belongs to me
Which took everyone by surprise.
I dance the path to life
With only a petty price.
Your soul belongs to me,
‘the necromancers vice.’
Tagged in josephine ranes