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Sep 18
Here I was told to rest
though with quill in hand I wrest
I fight setting paper alight
with heaven dark and hell bright

Hell is mine and His is heaven
Of that there was no question
Though neither were mine:
It was just
this war of mine…

So I lost sight
of day and night
and spent my life in fright.
I find it curious that writing this one poem complaining about religion has given me more peace than prayer ever has.
Written by
Yottalomaniac
148
 
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