Ripped into pieces, shred into oblivion,
for a warrior is nothing but a frightened lad,
unless he walks alone the frightful living.
Dreams will crumble, breathing shall fade,
but, how ironic, survival is still your aim.
Cast away in the howling plains,
bathed in destruction, just for believing.
Believing that the strife for life can be reversed
and the lie that lies before you, will be finally saved.
Whitelighter
2 σχόλια:
Well, some say that fear is survival's shield.
So, the lie could ultimately be saved.
At what cost?
Who knows?
Maybe some crumbled dreams and some hasty breaths.
Your dark poetry never ceases to amaze me my beloved spirit....
χαιρομαι που εισαι παλι εδω αργησα να το δω ....
when the lies stop are YOU finaly saved? or perhaps all we want to remember at the end is thee lie we lived in ?
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