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Apr 2012
Your lips like an open wound that seems to slip out not crimson but poison that seems to taint my ears in never ending insanity. My heart longs for thee, all my mind screams is run. Which path in which I'm suppose to take? What lies ahead, only time can tell, but for now I drown my sorrows and fears in this bottled shell that I calm to call my body, my mind, my heart and the soul. What I thought was so real, was nothing more then a lie and with that lie comes the ends of days. Not of yours, but of mine. This crimson that is spilled by the hour seems to leave my lifeless and cold. This shell becomes brittle and then breaks leaving nothing more but an image of a man that once was and he, himself is left alone. Alone in the darkness he lays, shackled by his fears and his demons slowly consume what is left. Nothing more he shall become, no light to flicker the way, nothing he knew would ever come true and false hopes lead him deeper into the abyss. His heart sinks, his soul dies, his mind becomes faint and he becomes  nothing more but a memory
Bryce Sellers-Booth
Written by
Bryce Sellers-Booth
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