DarkVortex
Novice
Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words." -Robert Frost
Posts: 36
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Post by DarkVortex on May 22, 2005 18:58:02 GMT -5
A long day leads to a harassing night. Spawning endless dreams and an eternal fight. A war that is fought between your mind and soul. Your sanity taken and bleed dry into a bowl.
You cant fall asleep with your beguiled eyes. Since all they witness is your egotistic lies. So all detached you linger till the coming day. Anticipating for that moment with nothing to say.
Now the putrid morning draws near. Abiding with only contemptuous fear. You get prepared for a day with this infection. Never discovering sanctuary or its correction.
There's nothing left, since your life is as good as dross. It wont affect it if there is another loss. So why go on with only thy foul life. When you are only dead and roam to strife.
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Post by alostandbrokensoul on May 28, 2005 6:58:47 GMT -5
the last stanza was my favorite
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