Lifes Chess
What is to be said by what is believed,
into dreams of misfortunes and thoughts conceived.
Perhaps denial in a form of regret,
such a fool to try and forget.
Sweet heaven a taste inside a tease,
wanting only more and begging please.
Solitary denial in a fact of reality,
slipped within births technicality.
Focus on thoughts of darkened light,
in a haunting abyss covered by night.
Whispering winds inside my palm,
a storm coming to overpower the calm.
Whatever such purpose to empower my fate,
when will I decide on when it's to late.
Ironic on things truly rare,
into which the inside lacks care.
Which is different, yet remains the same,
in a constant rearranging the rules type game.
Copyright © Justin Robbins | Year Posted 2011
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