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Wednesday, April 4, 2007
This circular staircase is still on a rise, which they say is grief. Another of a memorial corpse to the construction... And I rise high as a building.
Unconditional they say is love, and then unconditional is the pain, the tears, the very existence we live by the idealism I am born with.
And unconditional is the future I face…
Another end to the silence I have lived by this time.
And my sane thoughts now rust even more to the salt water I am built on.
There are some silent ends I don’t want to reach, and then there are memories that I can preach, there is a story of a murder and eternal freedom, gripping sorrows and a settlement alone.
It’s my termed solitude.
Walk away...
Walk away...
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1 comments:
"the very existence we live by the idealism I am born with.
And unconditional is the future I face…Another end to the silence I have lived by this time. And my sane thoughts now rust even more to the salt water I am built on"
beautiful!
absolutely beautiful =)
especially the last lines, and so very true.
*thoroughly appreciated*
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