'Mine Grievous'

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I must
have dropped forethought
some place back years ago,
curving round easily down a free fall if one chose,
creeping silently past hounded shadows,
little by bits blown,
flying off mine shoulders in speeding ammo,
hard slap at any wishing ones world to collapse & explode,
yet -
minutes... hours... days... show,
harshness slipping even further away through telescope,
though -
my grievous nature long ago...
did propose,
it lingers within chromosomes leading eyes to evermore question every mirror true exposed,
whom do I bestow?
& words calmly shoot chest of arrow -
there exists no place to truly burrow.

Between Actuality & a Psychotic EmbraceKde žijí příběhy. Začni objevovat