There are too many days in this blessed curse,
In this life that I call mine.
And I don't know what hurts the worst,
My failure or essence of time.
Calm yet tragic, true destiny spoken,
In this tomb in which I grieve.
Strange as it is, my senses awoken in
The passion in that, that I leave.
2007-09-12
01:56:59
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8 answers
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asked by
~the unforgiven~
2
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Poetry
Oops...sorry. I did just read over it and realized that I have grammar problems. I must have still been asleep...lol.
2007-09-12
02:29:38 ·
update #1