Images
A diamond's lustre, is tarnished with brail
Read her, feel her, tell her tale
Minds are soiled, with countless detail
Souls are battered, entangled and frail
Formed of heart and solid conviction
Entitled by self or less affliction
Nor humbled by any, sense of constriction
This image is burned, of my depiction
Surrounded by all, these hollow voices
Followed again, by numbing noises
Slimming down, to narrow the choices
Never will I learn, what rejoice is
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