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Your mica eyes ****** their sinister gaze-- Grim and glowering-- Gouging into gaping heart-wounds To commence continuous fresh ooze Dripping from festering, unhealed centers. Your darkened desires Derive insidious pleasures Watching the writhing and wasting-- The squirming of my weakening spirit; You grin at the gruesome handi-work Of your impaled butterfly. The brilliant brevity Of my soul's prismatic patterns, Exsanguinates in frantic, futile beatings With shredded, useless wings-- Faint flutterings fade into memories; Anguish appeases from silent screams To inevitable fatal numbing....                                 ( Release me--                                    P L E A S E--                                     I need to soar!)
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
W R E T C H E D
Your mica eyes ****** their sinister gaze-- Grim and glowering-- Gouging into gaping heart-wounds To commence continuous fresh ooze Dripping from festering, unhealed centers. Your darkened desires Derive insidious pleasures Watching the writhing and wasting-- The squirming of my weakening spirit; You grin at the gruesome handi-work Of your impaled butterfly. The brilliant brevity Of my soul's prismatic patterns, Exsanguinates in frantic, futile beatings With shredded, useless wings-- Faint flutterings fade into memories; Anguish appeases from silent screams To inevitable fatal numbing....                                 ( Release me--                                    P L E A S E--                                     I need to soar!)
For what are we if our very souls be held captive...we are as an impaled butterfly---unable to soar, our spirit weakens, and dies....
celtic-lass
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May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
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