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The Rising ….



Locked up in the realms of despair,
I walk amidst fallen angels mending their wings
I would like to call them survivors,
but, all that's left to survive in, is ruins.

The fantasy of death calms me to dread;
The fear of losing my soul lurching inside;
Come to search for me in the hollow of trees,
In the white forest of misery where i hide.

I hear abstruse whispers in my ear;
No peek, no hark, life beckons me no more;
Uncomplicated by the void of self-belief,
I forsake all that i have fallen for.

Lingering in my mind are the yesterdays of vain;
Through my shallow veins inundates repent;
Watch me with the shut eyes that you hold
Now, I rise to meet my end.


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