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Driven into the reapers sickle blade / Awaiting with his deadly handled swing / Raven feathered curses of swampy everglade / Keepers of the
7 lines, 18 comments,
on Jun 2 4:56 AM 2007. In Pain, Dark, Weird
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There is no light and joy in death / no colors, rainbows, forest or trees / laughter to hear, sweet fragrance to smell / notes to write or music to listen. / The garden of eden in all it's beauty
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Beauty worn by antiquated time
enfeebled by bone-weary cold
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In the misty fog damp and whispering dark of night
down narrow empty cobblestone streets of rabid dogs fright
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Beauty worn by antiquated time
enfeebled by bone-weary cold
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Dove's flutter, in hurried flight, startled hens
leaving their safe haven of plush overgrown secret gardens;
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If you only knew how much there is to say
this was so much fate, finding this here today
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In dark, damp, stone wall, basement cellers
shadowed moonlight, dense, foggy tree groves
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Mutton paned dirty windows glass
obscured any view of real life outside
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I smell sweetness
your slumbering dreams
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I let you have your own way
yet, no matter what I say
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Once sultanates power to be loved
"Sudarium of Oviedo", schroud removed;
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So many mistakes and broken dreams
worn by age, too many extremes.
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Looking beyond artist focal rendition
into telepathies mystic transition
19 lines, 6 comments,
on Jun 27 10:26 PM. In Angst, Dark
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From clouded minds that push and shove
enshrouded by vacuity up above
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Abyss vacuities longing echoes
tired and weary
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