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03-03-2007, 08:05 PM | #1 (permalink) |
Imperfectly Perfect
Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: North Carolina
Posts: 1,290
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Lost in the Voices
Lost in the Voices
Lesly says she’s dying On the bathroom floor she’s sobbing Her composure is hanging by a thread The voices in her head, the voices in her head She can’t get them to go Although she’s pleads and begs with them to leave her be Insanity is all she sees She’s vanishing before her eyes Lesly is melting away There’s no one there to comfort her And they just don’t comprehend That malevolence has grabbed her heart and soul It’s been too much of a wavering road Lesly wants to fade away She forgot who she used to be There is someone else inside her Playing tricks within her head The agony is too much for her to endure She can't make sense anymore Her reasoning is twisted and contorted Lesly guards the polished knife ever so closely All she wants to do is go She silent scream of anguish As the stream of blood flows She listens for a moment All that she hears Is the peaceful sound of silence Echoing through her tears
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"it is only through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect that a certain type of perfection can be attained" |
03-03-2007, 10:14 PM | #2 (permalink) | |
Account Disabled
Join Date: Feb 2007
Location: Joplin, MO
Posts: 468
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this is alright, it made me think of depression and suicide, but mostly death at the end
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03-04-2007, 08:38 PM | #5 (permalink) | |
Imperfectly Perfect
Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: North Carolina
Posts: 1,290
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Quote:
But the last verse, I was trying to get the feeling that this is one of those rare times where everything is connected and you are at peace.
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"it is only through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect that a certain type of perfection can be attained" |
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03-04-2007, 09:00 PM | #10 (permalink) |
Imperfectly Perfect
Join Date: Jan 2007
Location: North Carolina
Posts: 1,290
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All the poems (except the Mary one) were all written about 4 weeks ago when I was in a interesting place in my life. Did I post them too soon in succession?
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"it is only through a limitless accumulation of the imperfect that a certain type of perfection can be attained" |
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