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December, a vision, A most wise decision, I believe a derision Left us all alone, Nothing between us, No one could have seen us, This event completes us And leads us along, My mind was so clouded And as we were shrouded, The rest left confounded And sent to atone, To seek willing penance, To break their dependence To find our ascendance An encompassing throne, I seek, we yet make it, Deciding to break it, Knowing not what’s at stake yet, We sought a true home. But finding revulsion Furthered compulsion Our hearts’ errosion A broken gramaphone. No memory corrected, No statue erected We became infected With our words in tone, I looked o'er shoulder, No longer could hold her, Or either composure, Left a haunting moan. Seeing not corrected, My soul now indebted, Forever inspected, Silencing a groan, I walked as if courted, My love, I aborted, To see you contorted, My dear, so distorted, I find self remorseless Morbid, forsworn it, Disgusting discourses, All else but abhor it, It seems so alluring, Though mildly incurring, All but securing A life worth enduring, I’d say it was the last thing that I said in this world, But that’s just a paradox, and a lie beyond that.
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
A Paradox And A Lie.
December, a vision, A most wise decision, I believe a derision Left us all alone, Nothing between us, No one could have seen us, This event completes us And leads us along, My mind was so clouded And as we were shrouded, The rest left confounded And sent to atone, To seek willing penance, To break their dependence To find our ascendance An encompassing throne, I seek, we yet make it, Deciding to break it, Knowing not what’s at stake yet, We sought a true home. But finding revulsion Furthered compulsion Our hearts’ errosion A broken gramaphone. No memory corrected, No statue erected We became infected With our words in tone, I looked o'er shoulder, No longer could hold her, Or either composure, Left a haunting moan. Seeing not corrected, My soul now indebted, Forever inspected, Silencing a groan, I walked as if courted, My love, I aborted, To see you contorted, My dear, so distorted, I find self remorseless Morbid, forsworn it, Disgusting discourses, All else but abhor it, It seems so alluring, Though mildly incurring, All but securing A life worth enduring, I’d say it was the last thing that I said in this world, But that’s just a paradox, and a lie beyond that.
andrew-p-marheine
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
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