Me and My Muse

Monday, April 16, 2007

Dead Confessions

Stronger man he was, he was then.
Stumbled upon silence
Create velocities in mind;
And whirlpool in his deep dark sense.
Gratifying mortality of thoughts,
That did hurt, hurt beyond pain.
Rules those were meant for others,
Rules made by him of broken cane.

What remained to be proclaimed?
What could convince then?
What survival was worth?
No longer holds to be said or done.

As more is obscured to be pondered
Much more to pull than drive away.
I saw him last finding an old song.
And I left him there and then.




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