Sunday, April 9, 2006

Twisted

Black spiraling in my spiritual den.
Billowing its negativity unto my psyche.
Tortured by my own confusion.
Of utterly being devoid of light... of energy.
Of a crowd notwithstanding
their pretensions which are alien to me.
Of a being within reach but kept away.
Anger seethes, my whole image contorted
Into this monster I never intended to create.
Why? Why do such things happen?
A reason for everything they say
But other than myself can comprehend

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