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Night

I stand alone in the middle of the night. One person with a vision of nocturnal sight. Fighting with emotion like rain on the road. Swirling and moving with such a mighty load. Love so thick lick the night winds blow. Wishing for moments like traveling river flows. Holding on to memories of unity design. Waiting for destiny’s life and death to align. Removing the sadness stained by sin. Holding the glass overflowing with gin. The lighting in the air dances free. Not restrained by life of rooted tree. Holding on tightly of what is the truth. Relating to blues like Brown is to Ruth. Swaying in the breeze my empty eyes shine. Daylights present makes the demons turn fine.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 5/6/2018 1:14:00 PM
What is the truth? Truth is stranger than fiction, because fewer people have been introduced to it. Misty, I for one don't really want to know my truth.
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Misty Gentry
Date: 5/6/2018 1:24:00 PM
I think everyone knows their own truth. As humans we’ve have just been designed to hide it. I don’t know if it’s from sadness or guilt, but we are scared to confront our truth.