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Rated: E · Other · Dark · #1653852
One of my darker style poems.
When it rains, it cleanses the earth

My soul feels a purity within as it continues to fall

The emptiness is washed away as others are subjected to its gloom

While it ails most, my mind discovers happiness in its morbid setting

Astern from most as its persistence completes my tranquility

The sun bores my consciousness as it beats down with no regard

Hues of gray, so inviting as the calm before the storm

Hope may have its reason as aspirations of luminosity pacify

In actuality caliginous thoughts fill my originative incoherence

Stability is a forethought that is never sufficed

And when you glance, you see nothing past physical appearance

Nothing is seen, until the sight of open wounds


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