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Literature Text
Let the skin be wrested from my hands
Like gloves of cells and callouses.
I know not how my heart can take
Their doing any longer.
The tendons underneath must be
Tired, worn and torn from use.
I know not how my mind can use
Their function anymore.
Bones, once strong, shall soon become
Brittle, breaking pools of pain.
I know not how my body takes
Their silent purpose now.
Find release in freedom now,
For we will see the light.
Yet I know not how I could cease
This dreadful thing called life.
Like gloves of cells and callouses.
I know not how my heart can take
Their doing any longer.
The tendons underneath must be
Tired, worn and torn from use.
I know not how my mind can use
Their function anymore.
Bones, once strong, shall soon become
Brittle, breaking pools of pain.
I know not how my body takes
Their silent purpose now.
Find release in freedom now,
For we will see the light.
Yet I know not how I could cease
This dreadful thing called life.
Sometimes, I feel very sage late at night. The world speaks to me like whispers of a fairy into a drunken ear... that's not to say my ear was drunken, mind you.
I'd ask questions but I don't quite know where to begin with this piece. It's just a tidbit really.
I'd ask questions but I don't quite know where to begin with this piece. It's just a tidbit really.
© 2012 - 2024 k-times-two
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