We live in a painting of undefinable beauty
A star filled haze without definition. You run to...
The urge to tell stories,
to tell the story...
What if enemy
is in you telling you who...
The Inquisition burned the scientist
to prove their God...
Let me be indebted
to my depth...
I hope you are ready
for the death you made of me...
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A writer not only writes what the writer feels but the writer can also feel what the writer writes |
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Being in love is like playing with fire you always get burned |
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Must keep my eyes open, can't fall asleep yet, I'm widely wake, but for how long? |