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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #2003774
venting to my creator.
To wonder keeps me awake,
and the night brings calm and peace.
Until the sun rises and dread fallows and I have no choice but to swindle from illusions people make.

Exhausted after my rampage of expression,
but they hear nothing from a mouth with no words.
Desperate I covered pieces of my soul, my word is bond, so I took meaning as hostage.

I look into eyes of doubt while madness trembles my fingers.
I never met the me they speak of.
¨So who am I¨ I yelled, and I answered ¨I am a man that can see my names defender¨.

 
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