Going For The Kill

I'm picked up by salmon
and swallowed by shrimps
I'm tortured by white rocks
and I ‘m trying to talk
but it is of no use
I am abused by the gums
that erase my attempt-ions
to phrase what I feel
I am whirled by a wizard
who smothers my will
I am soothed with milk
and I ‘m bathed in silk
I am nursed by hypnoses
which captures me still
as it renders me slowly
to go for the kill! M

by Madrason writer

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