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A
poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Val�ry
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Branded
Mysterious forms linger in my mind Calling to me from a lost time Whispering thoughts in my head Unable to remember what they said. Secrets rising from their sleep Tormenting me from the moment I close my eyes Calling to me from the deep Whispering of deceit and lies. Burning my eyes when I blink The fantasies and realities, both I think They can not be erased from my head Wishing that all these thoughts were dead... raw || truth |