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Poem: Subtopia
As an omen before a plaguelike dying fire barely visible
prophecies - suspiciously vague
faith - the working principle
predictions - found on the past
too late - the die already cast
If I'm to lower expectations
and I admit to having them
my cloak fades in congregations
one voice surfing an anthem
eyelids cannot shut out pain
I speak - to face disdain
Lips touch sandals as I bow
shame - my given currency
I'll never own a horn to blow
cannot flee my blatancy
from scorn I'll hide away
in solitude I'd rather stay
In this prison of my mind
I must beg - pretty please
give me reason to be kind
down a peg - to find release
subterfuge is sorrow's ploy
to settle suburbs of joy
Poetry by Kjotleik of Norway
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Written on 2013-02-09 at 06:25
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Kjotleik of Norway |