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The Mind in its Creative Chaos

The mind in its creative chaos
Forced realizations of what is left undone
Fear of probability, of actions, and results affecting more than one
Melodies transporting memories we hold
The beautiful budding flower's story untold
Her pain for our gain as she bends to unfold
Muffled humming of blackbird and its meaning
Thoughtless killing of a tree in the prime of its greening
The soul's response to sound no for need preening

Abandonment of who one is to be
Reality hurting all of you and therefore me
Though starved, finding happiness and power by giving up the recollection the darkest hour
Freedom
Taking the time to love the dying flower
Begging for capacity of soul deep enough to remember the scent
Praying that our beings would remember what it meant

Pretending to kill our guilt and judgment of one another in the moment we repent
Why are we guilty, what good is this relent?
Who is this for, what sacrifice is spent?
Are we appreciated, are we content?
Written by saidhenry
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