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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Arts >> ID #1838647 |
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On rocks made of broken dreams; And bars of want for ore; Lies my world! I built my temple of contradictions; Camped deep in my core; Right where monks are clothed with bitterness! A place where mere coincidence isn’t given a bow and arrow; A place where relativity is placed next to appreciated qualities; Where pilgrims offer sweet nothings with each bow; Even though there isn’t any specter; Where it isn’t plagued with cold or snow; And where each can contemplate with sense; A place where to feel good means to let go; So as to let the heart reside where it wishes. Only there can I feel serenity this deep! I’ve finally figured my lines. Soon I’ll be leaving to see what destiny has to bestow; And on stepping stones that I’ve chose; I shall learn when to step down and when to draw! For snow is deemed fragile even at a glance; If you make the right blow. Sounds like a trance I know but am willing to take a chance; For one shall glow if he/she perseveres as they row. Lay back if you will, am going ahead!!
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