Skip to main content
Like
Create new Glog
previous
next
Email share
24 views | 0 likes | 0 reposts
Truth to honor, I speak to you, the noble majesty, on her way, the way you speak, so clear yet boyant, The way you laugh, the way you cry, the way you love, it never sesis to burn, the deepest wounds, and they were all left by you.
Afraid to lose control, you sit and wait, your life to be over, the freedom you conceal has never shined through. The power which sits, in your hands of nothing, The power that speaks on it's own, has truly nothing to do with you. The blood which runs through your veins, is spilling all over you, the poisounous yet cold blood that you have let go, has now covered all your loved, truth be told, we know nothing of you.
I'm not usually this way. But what can I do? Just sit there wait?
The world is filled of is called hate. If they were dead, or even still alive, I wouldn't care, care about you, care about anything. Hate has dung it's teeth, into everything, everything worth fighting for, Everything worth dying for, Everything Earth was intended to be. Hate has become me, and the others around me. Hate has engulfed everything worth something, It has changed everything worth living for, It has changed the world, It has changed and demolished everything, in a painfull, life filled way.
In some sort of way, I am always in pain, a powerful way, yet it's always obscure. The way it affects me, affects those around, In a controlled sort of way, everything has fallen for pains evil sort of truth. Life in a sense, has always been suffering, suffering eliptically, in the way of a robust eclipse. Imagination has shruken, diminisehed to nothing, nothing but agony, everyone's been aghast, yet it ocurs to them everyday. Pain is nothing but the truth, the truth and agony of life, and though we relize that, Pain is just another thing, thing to avoid, avoid in a beautifuly pained way.
