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This is No Song

Isn't boredom is its own birth of freedom 
In this antebellum age
I have fashions of a vision
That I could put to page

I need to rage against
This dying of the dream
To etch on ancient canyon walls
And sound my barbaric scream

The seductiveness of my antimuse
Slithers through my brain
As she intones, saturated 
Yours is a pedestrian pain

This is no song
My angel of inert imagination tells me
What if she's not wrong
Why else should she whisper it so loudly

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 4/16/2019 3:04:00 AM
this is no song but The seductiveness of my anti-muse !///
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