In this racing pace of night
Is the face of real
The times, the crimes, the dues
The kissed, the missed, the blues
In this interlude twix breath
Is the dark of peace
The fire, desire, now gone
The sleep, the leap, the none
In this reminisce of vita
Is the awareness of trust spent
The pain will remain the power
The crass might pass this hour
In this sober room alone
Is the solution to atone
The door or floor instead
The substitute; so dilute it’s dead
©2012 Hey Hey
1 comment:
I honestly can't remember writing this. Help! ;-)
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