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Showing posts from November, 2018

Words 33.

Nay, you claimed to be, who are you stranger? Thy presence is a well kept hidden from us, For how is that possible? Speak as though you are here, For your essence is not met with certainty, You are who you claim to be, But thy not thyself, Well?

Words 31.

It feels like a prison, Nothing but these four walls, Nothing but the silence it comes with, Only the mind is loud, Only my soul is trembling, Now I fear madness has taken over me

Words 29.

Visage of time marked by the roughness of your skin tells a story not many would know, nor care but only you would know that beauty lies in the heart of how much so it becomes a garden.