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Fears roll away At the sudden gusts of valor Before honored drovers Mounted and stern I regain balance From the cavalry charge within While uncertainty streams away Peppered mercilessly With fright and awe Courage beckons From the still plains I harbor Mute and reverent As the past hardships plume Full in stature My footsteps carry…
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Perched forevermore Is the boundless shriek of yearning Ruffled and ragged In his steady stream of heartache All through the night He pours without end Set aquiver with purpose As the angst falls shrill Cleaving The greater span of silence He remains all the same Proud and firmly nested Beckoning faithfully The truths that ring…
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Watchful strangers The ghouls of our time Follow all footprints We’ve left behind They scour in secret Trafficking unknown Gathering and gorging All careless words spun Watchful strangers Are on the move Maneuvering the worlds We’ve cleaved and conquered With eyes fixed forward We dare not inquire For what they pursue “Is no concern of…
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They merely shrug At the ongoing display The widely strewn heartache That writhes each passing night Scores stream away Wrung dry by the throes of verse The careless meandering Of my torn and ragged voice I let turmoil screech Through the spirals of my throat Unleash them, hopefully To a brisk current of silence Where…
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The engine sputters Through the density of night Toiling for home And the warm welcome of sleep Beneath faintest jewels Dimmed callously by man A lone silhouette Heaves on passionately Cleaving through the reeds Of pitiless dark For the quaint beckoning Of solitary bliss The awaiting romance Of hearth and luxury Solace nears Inching each…
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Every flowery notion Is born in a world That sways in the throes of havoc Stagnant in erosion Once solid ground defers Prose climbs in spite With a full heart to purge Triumphant verses Blare from the coils of grief From the harrowing labyrinths That curve so treacherously Defiance Lurks somewhere deep With an urge…
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I peddle distortion Disorienting fables The tales of a psyche Wrung dry by the hands of strife I year to convey But true words are minced Into powdery sentiments Worthless, idle, and baffling My thoughts are strafed And pelted into ruin Diminished and mute Unworthy of scorn or disdain Christen me The king of half-truths…
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I wither hopelessly In each gracious, transient glance Spent with great care Among my skin Inquiring Trapped in fervent wondering Each day lends more of the same As I trudge on, imploring Weaving desperately To each crimson glimmer Of cast out affection Like summer night campfires Dotting the shadowy hills I dart about madly Fueled…