October 16, 2019

pain
punctual
in thick memory
vultures in ice
one by one, on and on
smoke sleepless
woolly silence white
snowfall
image:fineartamerica.com
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January 15, 2016

A rolling ball, I am
Sometimes I roll, to tips of mountains
Giving you ripples of pleasure, maybe rattles of fears too
As I stand towering high, on muscles of iron
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Posted in Concept, Human Nature, Life, Observation, Philosophy, Poetry, Thought |
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January 15, 2016

Every pain, an imagination
As unreal, as stones fell depressed
Sinking into thin waters
As unreal, as stones raced happy
Rolling upon wet slopes
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January 15, 2016

This anger
Seems but a lava, of tears
Erupted, in your shrunk heart
To find a vent out
This fear
Seems but an ice, of tears
Frozen, in your paralysed heart
To find a warm corner
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