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Wednesday, January 12, 2011

images of yesterday's tomorrow

can this wretched feeling be denounced?...it crawls over me like a dream,seeking out the essence of my being.my chest heaves,pulse quikens and the core of what i desire turns sour.no longer are the vibrant colors of amore present...they slink away with their tails tucked.my soul is turned cold and blackened with a spice that leaves a stain~that no one can remove.i beg of it to release me for i grow weary of the constant struggle...when?is there a given time for the foul thing which keeps me alive!?does it beat only to draw attention to the pit which i inhabit?...strength wanes and turns against my better judgement.my twin looks upon the gnarled remains of what i try to create and laughs.the garden of my mind lies cluttered with the dead flowers of ancient hope...if there is a key,a remedy for this merry-go-round of deception...i pray for its deliverance to me.i grow tired and sullen...all i desire is honesty and truth.yet that seems to be the formula for my demise...has my father turned a deaf ear to my cries of pain~or have i come to ignore the mind which tells me no?

3 comments:

  1. great flow and internal rhythm to this piece and you end tight...i like it. nice one shot...

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  2. very intense words and tight write...the garden of my mind lies cluttered with the dead flowers of ancient hope... is my fav line i guess..

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  3. Has a searching, questioning flow. "the garden of my mind lies cluttered with the dead flowers of ancient hope" Great line. Smooth flow.

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