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Shouts to my Conscience

The waves of something splash on the shore.

A newly opened window.

Tasting and feeling and dreaming much more.

Where the mind wants to go.


But the mind controls itself not.

and the shouts to my conscience prove vain.

And the sanity is left to whither and rot.

And the body ignores the mind’s pain.


I ask myself many times over-

do dead men feel this pain?

I feel lost, unstable as well as unsure.

For even fire gets caught in the rain.


Redemption is far off indeed.

But my mind travels closer each day.

I fight and I strive and I need to succeed.

I must go through the narrow way.



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