I speak of things i feel, so primordial, that structured expression kills the essence.
I speak of things i see.
so easy to ignore, yet, so crucial
I find release in the seeming disorder of my Poetry; the subtle signs i see.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Ramblings...
We live in a world where priests of mediocrity and
crusaders of decadence make the rules for you to live by.
Won't it then,
be smothered in darkness?
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You whisper your name... but i can't hear it.