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In The End

In the end there is only dust of a once perfect form.
Molded I was in imperfection!
The spirit within this mold has bleed out
through the cracks of this fractured body.
Sanity lingers in puddles.
Here I'm left hollow.
Screams of insanity echo within.
Maybe now is the time.
The time to let go.
The quality of life just isn't there.
I'm done.
Written by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
Published
Author's Note
Entry from my daily journal.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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