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hurry words Behind Blue eyes Quicksand Death be not anything untitled Unheard I feel this way right now..... Poem sometimes...... My dad

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Jul 22nd, 2008

Quicksand

Is this where my mind is settling, inside this haunt of dreams and shadows that I have known so long? Like an old friend Satan lingers, waiting for the final call and I will belong to him. Am I mad, or is it my excuse for not living? Writing...oh, be friend or foe but not both! You torment me day and night, and yet I cannot dream of life without these words that flow like blood from fingertips of red. Peter, why did you leave? Why wasn't I there for you when you needed me most? You are gone.......and I can never get you back. Death follows me everywhere, and I cannot resurrect the lives he steals. I cannot resurrect my own soul.

My mood: very spent

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