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March 23, 2013


The words try to compress

choked with anguish,

looking for a different addiction,

away from the sight of the haunting masses,

echoes of sorrow,

no love from within,

exhaustion overrode perfection,

hurt remains interested in the precious within the visions,

still is,still it will be…still,

do not attempt to draw attention,

the pencil remains blunt,

call it a dull outlook,

but the feet control the motion and the direction,

it’s steps leading the sight to cadavers,

trying to stay still among the dead,

but the thoughts are mourning,

turmoil has control.


From → dark poetry

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