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Jan 2013
Dusty rooms with broken locks , that open on Styx river’s docks .  Quiescent and serene , the broken shards of endless dreams lie shattered on the quay .

Hyenas prowl , and vultures lurk , while ravens collect shiny baubles .  And far across the tumultuous water stands the devil’s majestic hovel .  A house of cards all full of light that speaks of vindication .  While capturing self righteous minds with human degradation .  

Such a tentative position man , a flash of light on desert sand .  Yet to the endless sea of time , a tortured wretch in pantomime ?

To mock the gods with books of lore , that delineate tomorrows shores .  With so many right and so few wrong the devil weaves a simple song , of perfected ostrazation .  While social stigmatism's blind becomes it’s own creation , to tie the hands and feet of all and shadow our perception .
Toreinss Pinwinkel III
Written by
Toreinss Pinwinkel III  72/M/California
(72/M/California)   
881
     Luz, r, patty m and ---
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