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Blake Nov 2019
I shall rip open the nails on my lips,
unfasten the clamp which has been put,
And let you all hear my misery.

I shall forbid hands to plaster my wailing eyes,
flick them away with tormented stamina,
And let you all see my deteriorated spirit from the irises.

I shall drop the fabrics which coat my dishonest skin,
unveil my battered bareness with no coyness,
And let you all cringe from my flickering silhouette.

I shall sit pestering under fire light,
My hands frantically peeling back every layer,
That was compelled upon me to carpet agony's vileness,
And let you all decide whether you can face it.

And I will finally tend to my mature scars,
Examine their falseness with sorrow,
Because although they're scars,
They never once stopped weeping blood.
SassyJ Mar 2016
In bareness life sheds
Melting our essences
To fear our termination
In caskets it all ends

In excess life mends
A regeneration read
Generations transpired
For eons we existed

In neutral life tends
Unscripted to rest
Reassessed to subsist
Repressed to matter

Thou shan't fear death
Embraceth thine destiny
Immortalised in shrines
Till the universe climaxes
Name of an Orchestral Music Piece (Joshua Ingram)
Thanks for the privilege.

— The End —