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When

when wind blows and engine wails when music rises and tires tear when gears shift, up without fail when landscape passes, so does fear when heart beats and smites in chest when senses race, beg for life when human instinct cries, protests when arrow rises, up and right when gas is streaming, brakes lie still when roaring wind fills the head when speed is great, enough to kill when glory beckons, til now unfed when all thoughts leave, save for one when nothing's left, no pain, despair when this is reached, the wall undone this is perfection, without compare thus who would now this venture dare who would in this state entail now who would offer a heartsick pra'er to the dark Gods, reap souls 'thout fail we mortals seek this place oh why this place where thought is total, s'pressed s'pressed all thought but race or die race for ever, or from reality fly

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 11/24/2010 6:37:00 AM
The concentration required when doing something exciting and dangerous, and surviving, is focus at its sharpest. It's very human to seek this, and may be the force that starts everything from suicide to war. Each of us that struggles for perfection has faced this rite of passage in some way.
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Date: 11/18/2010 4:03:00 PM
Thank you =)
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Date: 11/18/2010 12:14:00 AM
I'm proud of you. I read a lot of poetry and yours is great, but most of all, it's from the heart. It's direct, not pretentious, and is written to communicate your feelings rather than to impress. That sort of poetry is always far more "impressive" than the showy stuff.
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Date: 11/17/2010 11:31:00 AM
You know...Our grand mother would be proud. She wrote poetry all her life. Very moving, confusing, eloquent.
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Book: Shattered Sighs