Falling from Myself

November 20, 2010
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As I try to seek out love,
In the midst of my darkest hour,
I must scare the blackened dove,
And seek out a crimson-red flower.

I shall shun my former pain,
Tear myself from my old slate,
Beaten, with nothing to gain,
Engrained with deep-seeded hate.

Over the years, I strived to be numb,
A souless drone, barely a man,
Frozen heart and a synthetic thumb,
Dented like an empty tin can.

Reflecting upon a former glory,
As the pendulum slowly swings,
I sit back and play a worthless story,
Being reminded of what stings.

To release I shall reunite,
With the roots of my deceit,
In order to love I must fight,
I must flee from my defeat.

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