Thursday, October 20, 2016

Reusting

The surge through my veins,
Entrails enthrall free,
No left of even feign,
Such is wait for seeing thee.

Gathering strength lost of control,
Cuts of thousands shards left grown,
Quenched to merriment greater in droll,
Sanity refused to requite and thrown.

Forced a tip and pierced pryless,
Into me own, isth emptied this room,
Strong felt and stronger by bless,
Power from nothing, and all and doom.

Conflict so welcomed, created from earth,
For it is I, who gave it its birth,
To make happy, a word of relax and broke,
Brittle being a bit heavy, fine too little to choke,
Resting in peace, resting in wait,
Rusting in milieu, rusting in wait,
Impending will seem gloom, wait there's much more,
Unearth the joyful start, does end accompany bloom.

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