The correct death is written in. I will fill the need. My bow is stiff. My bow is in readiness. I am the bullet and the hook. I am cocked and held ready. In my sights I carve him like a sculptor. I mold out his last look at everyone. I carry his eyes and his brain bone at every position. I know his male sex and I do march over him with my index finger. His mouth and his anus are one. I am at the center of feeling. A subway train is traveling across my crossbow. I have a blood bolt and I have made it mine. With this man I take in hand his destiny and with this gun I take in hand the newspapers and with my heat I will take him. he will bend down toward me and his veins will tumble out like children… Give me his flag and his eye. Give me his hard shell and his lip. He is my evil and my apple and I will see him home.SourceThe script ran 0.017 seconds.
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