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The death of dreams is sleeping life
Awake to feel the last exhale
Agape to taste the bleeding knife
A rotted passion sickened pale
I travel blindly, grasping twine
Unraveled fibers snap in two
My wailing sinks a gasping whine
In depths above while passing you
But echoes bounce me back with aim
A flash of reason lifts my fall
Like bursting cannons shouting flame
A plea to never crave at all
In seeking heights unknown to climb
The soul is set unbound and flies
It happens here in written rhyme ~
A heartbeat needing purpose dies
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Author Notes
~ Not knowing, not constantly thinking, not needing to understand everything is the most freeing way to live your life and the simplest purpose one can have behind it ~
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GregoryCody
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