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{ Do those moments of, sort of returning An unwanted favor ( To some pre-labelled "Victim" ) Silence the rage and Undigested trauma In sharp slurs and bitten beatings? } Soft-spoken and fragile ramblings and Strumming of chords Under moonlight. Torn visionaries speaking in Luminaries; Twilight tea bags and broken sandals. Starting off... Beginning nervous, Mistaken by another's train of thought, but Ever blissful and convinced; Knowing all the time. Searching for a moment... THE moment! A sudden explosion! Dazed on faith, maybe, or drunk on inspiration! Things that may be someday, but either way- True courage, this thing, This magic called faith! Just humble spirits, Full-bellied spirits With restless limbs and Fluorescent wings, invisible. Rustic sincerity and understanding; Glasses over swollen azule eyes... Distillation of hymns And smoke; Coffee stained and Delusional in a pill popping coma! Whisked away by b-flat, and ones lust for harmonies. Shooting Bows and arrows Aimed at the farthest lushest niche In the sky; Opening and closing like a door. Always becoming!
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
Qualm for Those Intellectual Bruises
{ Do those moments of, sort of returning An unwanted favor ( To some pre-labelled "Victim" ) Silence the rage and Undigested trauma In sharp slurs and bitten beatings? } Soft-spoken and fragile ramblings and Strumming of chords Under moonlight. Torn visionaries speaking in Luminaries; Twilight tea bags and broken sandals. Starting off... Beginning nervous, Mistaken by another's train of thought, but Ever blissful and convinced; Knowing all the time. Searching for a moment... THE moment! A sudden explosion! Dazed on faith, maybe, or drunk on inspiration! Things that may be someday, but either way- True courage, this thing, This magic called faith! Just humble spirits, Full-bellied spirits With restless limbs and Fluorescent wings, invisible. Rustic sincerity and understanding; Glasses over swollen azule eyes... Distillation of hymns And smoke; Coffee stained and Delusional in a pill popping coma! Whisked away by b-flat, and ones lust for harmonies. Shooting Bows and arrows Aimed at the farthest lushest niche In the sky; Opening and closing like a door. Always becoming!
bowsnarrows
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Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:18 PM UTC
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