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A many splintered thing.

Afloat in the starless,
bound for distant harbor,
with less heart he offers tainted remorse
risen from the tides of darkness,
a sight for the artless
and mumbled sighs for the deafs a prospect;
a bleeding silence echoed splintered
inclined through a mindful violence
at the core of thoughtlessness,
in times of hateful apathy,
disgrace entwined in all its colours
as he screams in broken piety at the world which haunts him,
how he would barter
merely for the simple silence he so dearly sought after.

Fri vers av Kieran
Läst 231 gånger
Publicerad 2014-03-29 00:56

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