Falling

August 11, 2015
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For every story unfurled lies one more,
Broken, hopeless, destitute on the shore,
And when one rides upon the fickle waves,
A lifetime one will surely waste,
And lose you will control over
Your life,
Running about, reckless and wanton
Pouring its raw, impoverished
Soul
To nodding passersby.
You may lament of weariness,
so tired, rushing,
Pulling
unknown strings,
No choice, no
choice,
nothing but a light
At the
end
no
please
why
it burns.






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