Friday, September 10, 2004

as a dream,
it came to me,
solitude,the only phrase to explain me...
as a rain,
it poured on faces around,
it made wet dim sight,
for blind eyes of mine...
thorns were sharp and keen,

in disarmed hands of mine,
acts were seducin',
cuts out of blood and pain,
razors were prickin',
nervousless body was ignorin',
the chance of sensin',
devoured and swallowed the torture...
now as a nightmare,

cruel like a monster,
it's divinin' in my land of welfare,
till when, I'll be the slave,
of thinkin' of her bliss?
to be a deicide is difficult,
for who has worshiped,his God, total in purity...
"I'm asking why?"stone-shoted scabbed angels replies:

all is for our true nature is sin...


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