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Dec 2011
Crystalline youth.
Memories are forced by another.
Pockets have always been empty.
Divine visions shared.
Divine hatred ignored.
Loss.
Fully awake.
Forced asleep.
Following divine bait on a predetermined course.
Infertile courage forcing everyone's hand to the flame.
The end is a prayer.
To leave positive echoes.
This was a attempt to some myself up from start to now. I know its a simple thing, but it just came out that way. I try not to mess around to much from the original idea.
joe dearmore
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joe dearmore
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