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Poetry » Religion » Out from the Mire font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: RandomTurdBurger
Fiction Rated: K+ - English - Spiritual/Horror - Reviews: 1 - Published: 10-23-04 - Updated: 10-23-04 - id:1744952
The waning sun sets on an evening so cold
Another day of sameness is dying and old
And when all is done and nothing told
What have I got left to keep, to hold?
Thoughts are rewound and again played
Those we hold close may leave and fade
And a scar is left for each goodbye bade
For each memory uprooted a hole is made
The pointlessness of life silently creeps
Into every thought, every dream as I sleep
And the sadness it creates slowly seeps
Into the holes left by memories so deep
This marsh we call life is beginning to
Drag me down, but suddenly I see you
Reach a hand out to me and pull me through,
Out into the light, where today rises anew


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