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Nat Lipstadt Jul 2020

for if not to mystify and to demystify,
why do we write, opine large, secretly confessing,
what is know to all soto voce in the chamber of secrets,
that lies between the brains four chambered ventricles,
that leads to a Grand Canal through which flow riddles,
all these thoughts, yours, mine, and overlapping crazy

solitary, they merge within the river of combination,
then known to all, colloquially named Ours, then too,
answers arrive in the scrivening, when each plain to see,
once the riddle posed, the answer is freed to exposure,
like veins blue to red, when oxygenated,all our mysteries,

becoming all colors, untied, there is but one color, reddened blood
Bvaishnavi May 2020
I wonder why there are such circumstances,
In which we can't  make any distances,
I need a sword to fight those worries,
And a place to bury my unanswered queries,
I wanna spill this **** out,
But there are only people who knock me out,
I insist thou to give me power that I could be my self till the end.
I am being influenced and changing to the person I don't want to
MP Martinez Jul 2017
Behind that sullen half smile
Was an infinite stories locked in a book
Within that fathomless onyx eyes
He saw an endless spiral abyss like the universe
But it didn’t stop him for jumping
Just to reach her hidden heart
Beat* a thousand beats,
Crumble a thousand crumbles;
But no single formula, nor restless colloquy
Can mend the deafening black gravity nestled in this cage.
May grow flowers, but disintegrates to ash.
Soars to the highest peak, then jolted with a fatal blow.
Comedy or tragedy, truth or dare, numbers or letters, fidelity or treachery;
What does it choose?

Courage, dear heart.
This is another pen and ink draft coming from the crevices of my thoughts, in this quiescent and intellectual brain of mine. Enjoy!

Frankly, I've been having a dilemma for the title of this piece. Can anyone give me some suggestions? Thank you.

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