"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Monday, April 29, 2013

Below Roots (II)

Am I forced to be the one?
Or are you ever going to come and get me out of this? 
Hurricane of guilt 
Lifting the tree from below roots. 
Rid of all the ties that have made the pain
Conflicted... 

Don't miss the heartache now, the way I always mourned
But I will, after hours... 
Cling to the rain escapes, the bottles... 
Clink against the glass, shatters 
Pouring out the remainder...
From the year before. 
From the heart at war. 
And the memories... 

Someday to reflect?

While into the cold quiet dark. 

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