Friday, July 13, 2012


All perplexing imperfection
Given to my glass complexion.
Fateful tears that feed my soul,
A bitter wine to fill the whole.

Out of reach for my obsession
With false words of my perception.
Leave the breaking to my thoughts
While the players slowly rot.

With all the worlds locked in my head
Another's ears heard what I said.
If they're not real, then what are you?
Never mind, I'll see it through.

The whispers fill my mind with dread
And kill the mouth you never fed.
To live inside a metaphor
Is everything and nothing more.

The very things you could not see
Were written for one such as me.
For all the places I have been
One more waits within the pen.

Lost in your reality,
Complaining of complacency.
The metaphor is what I am.
I'm introduced, may we begin?

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