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May 2017
I only feel hunger for the stones and the wind;
Never an inspiration is more than enough,
And the senses are much alive when
The night is crying with anyone's wrath.

I'm walking over thorns and blood
In which the pleasure is just a song
For an eternal dance;

Fire and earth are the nourishment
For the stolen innocence;

I'm feeling some presence behind me;
The ghosts are warning me about.

This sensation makes me feel like a shadow in the sunlight,
And I want to scrub the heaven
For all the Hell given to me
As a blessing.

On this day,
Any belief could keep me alive;

I just know that I need to survive;

It's a human voice,
It's telling me I'm not cursed,
It keeps me breathing,
In spite of I kissed the Death;

What it's a Sin for some ones,
Is a Miracle for others;

There will be a shadow that wants me
To sing along,
So I will never say that Life is a torture;

She is the Red Whip that takes shape
On my naked arms.
Poetae Opus
Written by
Poetae Opus  M/Portland, OR
(M/Portland, OR)   
199
 
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