Somewhere in the Realm of Things

like broken strings and pumpkin pie
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A Time of Absence

Through the thick cold air circulating the city,

I hear the soft remains of a sunken symphony.

Strange dreams peril my sleep.

Too familiar.

I am awoken

By the knocking of a conscious state.

I have the distinct feeling that I am led far astray

From the drowning confines. 

11/24/2009 09:41
 
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