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Rantings of a dying dream

So here you are,
Pleading with your nightmares,
Asking for its forgiveness.
You had earlier castrated your thoughts,
Stripping it of it's ability
To produce dreams.
What is left now are
figments of a dying past.
That has no relevance in the trends
of the present.
So you sit by the wayside,
Begging for knowledge
On the streets of ignorance.
No help came.
Only words...
Words that eat deep,
painfully, Into your bones and marrows.
Depriving you of the ability to hope for tomorrow.
No way to augment for the times
spent in the corners of joy and bliss.
you flee to the sunset.
Hoping to gain comfort through the eye of the needle.
It only gets worse.
Your eyes bleed with desire to feel
the jaws of inspiration
biting through your skin.
Oh, that pleasure.
Yes, that intoxicating pain to feel revived again.
you just can't handle the streams of revelations
blowing through your mind.
Your soul awakens
Your eyes blink to white.
You begin to see... things.
In the midst of nothing.
A slap came through.
You return to reality.
Pleading with your nightmares,
Asking for its forgiveness.

© Danny El.

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