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Literature Text
The path is long. The way is weary.
The road rolls on, dry and dreary.
It trudges, slowly,
Humming the dirge of radiance,
With sunken eyes and blanched skin,
Lips sewn shut,
The needle tucked in a clenched fist.
A Warning:
Private pain is a thorny throne,
Bite your tongue, and suffer alone.
The road rolls on, dry and dreary.
It trudges, slowly,
Humming the dirge of radiance,
With sunken eyes and blanched skin,
Lips sewn shut,
The needle tucked in a clenched fist.
A Warning:
Private pain is a thorny throne,
Bite your tongue, and suffer alone.
Literature
Screaming Under My Breath ...
Screaming Under my Breathlessness
The unexpected moments of remembrances strangle
I am not that strong anymore
I miss you - more than him
Literature
Hollow
Here amidst the bones bleached white,
the echoes become trapped in ribcages
like a heartbeat.
But it’s just a sound.
No blood pumps through the
marrow thick like
baby’s breath-
flowers for someone who is sick or dying or
dead.
No light shines
under the skin and muscle.
How dark it must be for the
delicate, fleshy bits underneath.
The lungs don’t know when it’s time to
go. No moon to guide them.
How do they know when to
stop?
Does the heart even know the color
of blood?
Literature
Lost Song
I used to think myself grand in the face of the abstract.
I thought myself a poet, a knitter of words which together would create something like music to the eyes, drumming its rhythm in time with heartbeats and telling stories of love that almost was—of heartbreak that was very real at the time, and of thoughts that then seemed profound but—looking back—are laughable.
And I missed the words. They always seemed one step (or several steps—perhaps miles) ahead of me, and I wanted to run after them, to delve into their secrets and wade in their meanings. Alas, I was not worthy then, nor now, and whether or not I can eve
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I feel like this some days. Thankfully those days only come once every so often.
I debated about the first two lines for awhile, I wanted to set the scene a little, and emphasize the monotony associated with it, but monotony doesn't sound as 'poetic' as I'd like it to.
I debated about the first two lines for awhile, I wanted to set the scene a little, and emphasize the monotony associated with it, but monotony doesn't sound as 'poetic' as I'd like it to.
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awesome and very descriptive. i love it.