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Lost in a world

With no tongue

No way to speak

Expressions never articulated

Dreams that escape

A twisted subconscious

Never reality

The tales told by bards

Long dead rotting

Words still moving

Floating through this world

Of cynical bastards

Who use these musings

To describe their desolation

Imagined in their miniscule minds

While the true librettist

Stares at the blank page

Pulls his hair out

And cries into the empty night

Wondering why the utterance

Of his soul

Is unable to manifest

In a world of fools


2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. michael mcguirt
    Aug 28, 2012 @ 06:56:49

    the infinite world of mind is always expressed by infinite individuality, and the break of light awaits the darkest night…


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