As I write sometimes - from a subconscious place - these words appear, then I shape them into something semi-coherent and hit the Save and Publish button. In other words; it's not a conscious, personal reality, so don't be... too concerned.
Confusion
within the twisting phantoms of your mind
you rewind
turbulently
grateful
of respite
glad to see the night
come closer to its end
where you can fend
those demons once more
the light of day tells you
puts spells on you
confirms the lie
while you wait to lie
once again in your bed of horrors
nor there will you find those mirrors
that ease you
with the reflections of delusion
a comforting intrusion
and this game you play goes on
every breath of agony
you hold on
nor sense will bring you calm
while embalmed
in this pyramid
of fear
you can’t hear
the voice that wants to save you
for with birth your life was written
family
never forgiven
not an inch they gave to you
as they also
plagued
by humanity’s brew
gave you your path
and the deadly aftermath
of confusion
Poetry by Eli
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Written on 2011-03-02 at 06:11
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