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Paranioa

Waned and weary with only toil and trouble
my limbs could only travel this journey tired. .

In my head to in my mind
-which coincidentally were not the same thing-
thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found in your gaping wide darkness of speech.

My serenely spiritual soul's mythical secret shadow sparkled as a jewel:

Boundlessly black but brazenly beauteous by day, but by night,

my mind mentioned masses of decoratively hung ghastly gossip,
secretively shushed into silence
                   never
     ever
                                  to be a quick quiet find for any of us.

Comments1

  • Daniel

    I love the way you paint a picture with your words. Your poem is very expressive and beautifully written.



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