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Nov 2013
I am the Dead Man's Growth.
Sworn under oath
To protect what I loathe

My being is my blackness
As I consciously follow a forgotten path.
My rotten past
A joy that fails to last

Faces that cannot be seen
Whisper cloud secrets
That infect me
Dominate me
And re-educate my subconscious mind.

My hell cannot be reached
But travels as far as my blind hollows can see.
A seed of backward growth
Springs a tree of hatred's most.

Soundless cries
The noise in me now ceases to exist
My body is without a voice
Logic-defying existence.

Winds forget to mourn
My death.
Clouds drift; sun smiles
As who I am
Falls with the moon.
And none of me will exist on Thurday's Dusk.
Written by
lindisa mathabela  in my head
(in my head)   
681
   st64
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