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by Wright
Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #2203748
A quick thought, without conscious thought.
It really comes as no surprise that my life has landed where it’s at. Through all of my infinite uncertainty, today has still come. To wonder what life could have been if the only word I had known was yes, then perhaps this day would have not been like many of the rest. To put in terms even I may comprehend, let it be known that tomorrow was once my past. I see now that no matter how hard I fall, no matter which way I strive, the deafening reality of will eludes my contempt to stray. Sometimes, when I believe in myself I fail to believe in who I was. It’s not important that I lay here in agony, it’s not redundant to think I can escape, not only myself but thy who is displeased by such ill fate. Myself tomorrow let it be thee who caps the foreign destiny. Sometimes, being too late means someone else just got there early, not that I’ve made a mistake. I cannot undo what has yet to be done, in silence I fall straight, towards the resting place of my unfortunate fate. Lay here I will, with no solitude worth the escape, lay here I will, tomorrow may never wait.

Embody my will of able mind, destroyer of causality I defined my life. Bewildered zest of grotesque fruit, plucked from the depths of mistaken roots. Let riot the hell churned up through waters edge, the free will of heart does not recognize my death. Dry rain over iced shackles burns this flesh, portrayed as ‘locked in distress’. The waves of reality set forth by the crash of frozen wealth, the simple tongue of wisdom cut off by the feathers edge. Fly with me as I lay to rest, the daunting image of a life without retest.
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