Found at the end,
Forgotten in the first,
Taken by insolence,
Broken by carelessness.
Received in a black parcel,
Crushed and shattered,
Wounded for ever,
But lost for never this trinket.
The hatred is furious.
And endless squall,
Thrashes about to and fro within my soul,
Weathering the walls all ready battered and bent.
A force of empathy,
Pity the wounded,
Praise the warrior,
A ghost to emotion.
Stalking the moon,
Haunting the sun,
Poisoning my mind,
The refusal for the impossible,
Only to reclaim the forgotten.
Author notes
Written February 3rd, 2005
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Wow. Mind-blowing. Seriously, i can relate to this piece of art so well sometimes. Thanks
