"Dust thou art to dust returnest"


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Thursday, April 25, 2013

Exterior

I feel like a criminal 
Though I've never meant to harm anyone before.
There are some stars out there, beyond the gray
That just don't shine through anymore 
The reasons are not blamed... 

Though I feel them deflected. 

I've never felt the dust in my palms...
Yet I've watched it spill through others 
Every morning I admired the thought
That I could be renewed... 

That I could live on to be more than just a specter.  

That my gift was worth saving. 
Not even a cure. 

I feel like such a criminal...

... 

Reality does not wait for me on the other side of darkness 

(Know there is a pulse in every human being. 
Be there, a shadow on this rough exterior...) 

There is truth in what you believe
In that we remain.  
Though it is difficult for blind to see
When in the end we're fast a sleep...

The world does not work, callous... 

The reasons are not blamed. 


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