Nothing of which I seek

January 16, 2010
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Hidden is the reason for which we live
A canvas filled with colors that run bizarre

Dim headlights emerge through a swamp of cold
Everyone as close to each other as they are to themselves

Bristles of perception swarm all around
Yesterday still breathing behind today’s frowns

Inglorious growths, our gift to our nature
We arrive finally to sink into more of destinies void

Everything of which I seek reminds no longer
Of fabulous tales that once secured my escaping mind

Oh I wish to seek a gift still so pure
And cherish our god given serenity;
A conscience world with no inflammation
Will hide the painful ache for reason

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