Disregard for the Cynic
My disregard for the cynic
was so deep, that I chose to
live life in a dream.
If I want flowers and soft nights,
I'll find them.
If I want hills and herds
of Sheep, the echo of wind
round my body, I'll go live it.
There are aspects of life
that are hell. And the hell we carry
round inside.
If I want hell, I'll make my own.
And I'll fade with it, into
soft petals of the Hawthorn.
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