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#1
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When it falls.
When it all comes tumbling down. Rebuilding hope, person, mind and soul are the hardest parts. My hands bleed, From the corse, Hard rock of which, The fortress Of self is built. Forever stacking, Until the walls, The bulwarks, Tower endlessly. Seemingly impentirable. Yet no matter, How strong the foundations, How fortified the battlements... She will always, Smash them down again. More and more frequently. Restarted, Rebuilt, Reduced... Relentless. But this time, I'm not rebuilding, Letting the tools slip From my aching, Destroyed hands... They fall, Miles... To the cold floor. And myself, Along with them. Bloody and bruised. Laying upon the ground, Lost, empty. Gasping for an eternity. Trying to hold on. I'm not rebuilding this time. I won't. I can't. I'm too tired. Oh so very tired...
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"When the time comes, just walk away and don't make any fuss." Last edited by Fkeu'itan; 05-23-2010 at 07:47 PM. |
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#2
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Ask her why, why she always breaks yourself, your mind, your heart into pieces.
She will ask you back. "How would I know then, that you are strong enough for me? How would I know you would fight for me? How would I know you could keep me, this dream, alive?" (In case you're referring to PAD of course)
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I love Plato, but I love Truth more - Aristotle
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#3
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O brother,
I missed your advice. For I had already decided, To proceed with that action. Escaping the city, I ran to her, my tormentor. And I allowed time and prescence, To take it's course. And she did respond. She tended to wounds, She picked up the tools. And thrust them back. Proclaiming; "Help you I will For such dedication But rebuild for you?" "Nay, 'tis a job Only the sufferer Can adopt, For futherment." And I understood. She gave me strength, As easily as she broke me. But there are rules. She asks only that, I do not forget. Do not abandon for so long The next time. Abidement to these rules Is a must. Lest I be cast down, As before. "Ask and you shall recieve." Some may say. But I say, "Speak and you will be restored." For I demanded nothing extra, Than I had before. Merely to have restored, That which I had lost. Touch, Taste, Hearing, Smell... But most importantly, Sight. And with this sight, comes a 6th sense. Love.
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"When the time comes, just walk away and don't make any fuss." |
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#4
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You know these poems in two parts of yours are somewhat annoying when you try to comment them: I feel like I ruined the second part with my answer.
![]() Anyway it's a very deep poem, I can truly say I know how you feel.
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I love Plato, but I love Truth more - Aristotle
Last edited by ZenitYerkes; 05-23-2010 at 11:11 PM. |
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#5
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Quote:
I do not feel you are not ruining the second part at all. In fact, what you posted enhanced it in my view. You said some wonderful things in return.
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"When the time comes, just walk away and don't make any fuss." |
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#6
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No need to apologize, it IS a good piece of poetry and that's all that matters here.
__________________
I love Plato, but I love Truth more - Aristotle
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#7
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Thank you Zenit. I apreciate it.
Even if it does come in two parts.
__________________
"When the time comes, just walk away and don't make any fuss." |
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