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Created on: January 21, 2010
My memories or but a shadow of what is and what was real
As I look back to the deeds of my past I see them as if through a vail
I see myself, alone, tattered clothes hung loose upon my form
My face down, as if ashamed of something I'd done
The rain pours down relentlessly around me
Each drop pounding into the ground as the one before it had
Constantly falling to it's demise, not unlike my thoughts
My nightmares, where I see myself plundering towards the earth
A thousand knives below, one each for a deed I've done
Ready to impale me, waiting eagerly to end it all
And just before I would met my end head on
I wake in a dark room, the curtains blowing wildly
The lights flicker out as the storm just beyond my window rages
My mind,still numb from sleep,as I slowly pace towards the window
The only form of light are sudden flashes of lightening,
Penetrating like jagged daggers in the unholy darkness.
The rain stings my face and arms as I shut the window
The lights flicker back to life, driving back the darkness
The storm outside begins to cease
Once again I am safe from my darkness,
I am at peace
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Poetry: My dark days
My memories or but a shadow of what is and what was real
As I look back to the deeds of my past I see them as if through
Stricken with emotion
Here are we this human race
Between the laughter
And
Sadness and being misplaced
When the echoing
Being in a fight,
and never being right.
Being told you won't be anything.
Being told your not worth anything.
The days
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