Twisted Time
read me in the story to find me between the lines;
i am the unsaid, the lost, the undefined.
hear me in the music and listen for me in the song;
i am the silence between the staccato,
the rest,
the pause
that has doesn't last long.
for I am the poetry that has no conception;
i am the emotion without expression.
nothing belongs and nothing appears.
i am the nothing of the ages
the last of empty pages.
i am the illusion of the mind,
a mystery made by twisted time.
Poetry by Elizabeth Rose
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Written on 2008-10-23 at 19:28
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Elle |
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Texts |
by Elizabeth Rose Latest textsIf...Twisted Time Smothered The Little Girl Who Cries |
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