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Apr 2012
I have become a walker
A walker between worlds
In a monotonous night of questions
Answered but not explained
****** of loneliness
On a blank page parade themselves
Providing invitations to dust
I wonder in a city of night
Trying to escape from
The threat of nothingness
A flame of living to disrobe a false life
To dispel darkness in the three realms
Here I meet a raven
In pursuit of tenebrous dreams
Whose shadow soft illusion lights
The colour of which eludes/
I question this Poe Bird
But the Raven keeps its tongue
In Quiet seclusion
While it weaves non color
Into a an iridescent arch
A black rainbow that now has
The purchase of my vision
Makes colors flee in terror
Leaving me despondent
And devoid of proper thought
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
743
   Olivia Mercado
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