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NADIR

 
Garden of sleep, the thought is fed
And bound by words I never said
The toil of grief, rewind, repeat
Those nails dug deep, I supersede


Slow and deliberate, tearing
One by one, to feel anything at all
Until my fingers are raw
And on the waste, I gnaw


I must indulge


Stay, unwind
Star, to find
Carmine


She lay there, oblivious
Pure as the dead of night


Dust from my breath, absolving rain
Erudite, yet the lapse is pain
A drink of lethe, these words of death
Whispered intent, to lips I tame


And those lips
Quivered in cadence
With her hips
As I exhumed her


Equivocation
Truth is in the mind
I won't lie again


Broken laughter just beyond the door
Keep begging for more, the vision is torn
Saw a maze of scattered congeries
A captive of the fading sun
And in their discordant reflection
It is only me I see


Binding the failure within
I taste blood on the skin
Bore my evil with a grin


It's eating you alive
Your lust for the knife
I plunge inside
Written by UbiquitousVoid (. . . . . . . . .)
Published
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