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Apr 2018
Part I

Out of death,
My shallow grave,
I rise.

My eyes
With godlike vision,
They can see through

The dark
The gloom
And the mind.

Lonely is the road,
tread by wheels,
Watching them go.

Spectrum of colors,
Halo's gold,
All fading into oblivion.

Vacant houses,
keeping - lost words
- in

Lines that cross faces,
so familiar,
Don't write their names.

No recollection
of the light
in their eyes.

Captain of the Titanic,
Sail on.
My skin is cold.

Stale blood running
in veins,
I can't help but to overhear.

Roses on a wooden box.
The world is dying,
I remain.

Part II

Of eternal life
and punishment,
I confess:

The sin
of Nostalgia
in my static heart-

For longing
to burn
down the world,

Not for creation
of new
in the ashes,

but for destruction,
that will
end all destruction,

for one last collision
of life and death
joined into one.
Jan 2014
Written by
Elicia Hurst
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