Whisperings of Guilt
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When your mind shuns flattery's lies,
it opens, letting the truth in.
And mutes all the varied voices
of fear secluded deep within.
You know of love only through dreams,
where hope's crumbling walls are rebuilt.
And the sanctuary of sleep
banishes whisperings of guilt.
The mind's a fantasy playground
filled with flashes of second sight.
And skeletons of memories
time's acid tears have bleached bone white.
Tricksters and angels coexist
quelling echoes of silent screams.
And they speak the language of trust,
in reality's world of dreams.
Angels abhor the emptiness
that eats away at lonely hearts.
And try to fill that void with smiles
that gather; as each new day starts.
(Quatrain)
5/6/2015
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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