To Be Free This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

June 16, 2010
The drops decay like a dying disease;
Their wills are withered With each waking sunrise.
While the wreck of pain is renewed in ruins
And thorns tangle Around a tragedy
made from mistakes, the dull memories,
of deadened drops. But, daring to deepen,
the reality of the running rain,
brings hope in purging prosthetic lives on poison.





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