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Slaves of a True

Monday, March 14, 2011 at 1:21pm

The last thing that lingers in me
Is remorse for all that i touched
I was wrong to fell the flowers
My mind like the golden breath of autumn
Still killing and barely alive
A soldier lost battling reality
Stuck in a world of my own making
Where a vast field of red floods my sight
Poppy, vivid and awake, yet in my sleep
Sadness, yet dull enough to ignore
To forget failure, I live in this chaos
To accept everything I have become
The become pain itself, unconscious
And so to kill myself
Winning our epic war with no ring of steel
No pain of truth to keep us away
As in birth sleep begins
In ignorance, bliss awakens
And time will now defeat us all
My fate a formless cloud
A dreamy existance pouring to the world
Naked thoughts like naked nerves
Raw teardrops of pain awaiting
The touch of Reality with her velvet fingers
Of hope that never gets home
Of a dark mist clouding my inner vision
Choices made wrong again
By faceless forms of lies concieved
Unwind all you have set before me
Lest it spins to the ground
Nomore safety lives in reality, only in lies
A slow pulling on the strings of my life
Answering with a familiar hollow cry
My voice entwined to the sound of loneliness
Because we are slaves of the trickling sands
Slaves of Reality
Though when we see the end
We see her with her true face
The face of the greatest lie

Slaves of a True

tami zizhou

Joined March 2011

  • Artist
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Artist's Description

A poem about the author’s constant fight with reality

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