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by Doug
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1495561
How dying often seems like the better choice.
Bluer than all the bluest skies.
Darker than all the nights.
And together we
Won’t be free.
As long as you are you,
And I am me.



Uglier than the most wretched beast.
Deader than all these withered trees.
And no we won’t
Won’t be free.
As long as this is life,
And there is blood in me.



Lay me down,
Down to sleep.
Rot like the sun,
Rot like the leaves.


In dreams we will
Soar so high.
Life is limitless,
Life is free.


All this waiting,
Is getting to me.
Sick to my stomach,
With agony.


To place a bullet,
So carefully.
Between the eyes.
So for once,
I can see.
© Copyright 2008 Doug (bloodjunkie000 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1495561-The-Awakening