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Saturday, March 7, 2009

Enshackled

Is this all it seems,
of all the mundane stuff,
of all the nonsense,

laying,
breathing,
barely,

of what is stated,
for now are below average,
nothing extraordinary
only below average.

for she was sleepless,
for six years,
emotionless,
for all has been lost

turning to the ghost of her nightmares
to breath once again
in that mundane past
where everything seem all
damn right

promises of a better tomorrow
is it ever coming,
to see the sun rise above the clouds
and to see dusk fall,
the moonlit once more

for these eyes
have seen lost
lost into what oblivion
the treacherous now
imprisoned

because it hurts
to see you
hurt

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