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Day Break
Day Break
I fight to stay asleep at sunrise because my gray sky morning brings with it no gifts but a failing horizon that was born of my own misery. Silence is the only sound I hear and it is my blanket, my warmth, my bed - my breath is the only motion around. It is my company and as these minutes turn to hours I wait for the end of a never ending day by drowning in my bottle of silent sorrow and serving time in my own created prison.
Could you not love me enough, could I not love you right - when you recieved my rose and breathed it's scent I thought the precision of time would begin and end with our love. But your honest lies and sins sinned against me steal the blue from my sky and calloused my heart to it's core. Now this foundation that I stand upon is cracked and eroded, my surroundings affecting my structure, and broken buildings is where I now look for truth.
Alone now, my life two shades of gray, time burns my eyes to tears, my heart hollers back at the sound of thunder and everyday is a lifetime of favorable slavery because of the pain that you laid.
All I really need is everything you could never be and after all the lies and lessons learned I hate me for what I am and love me for what I am not. Hope shall not be my misery, through my numbness I have fallen all but to my knees and I will not give selfishly even though my shell has been weathered by severe storm. Sometimes time is not enough to make some wrongs seem right, but with all that I have left - I shall live. With one more breath and the possible passing of impossible obstacles - the session of the court gives me one last tear to be spent and I will not waste it.
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| It's an interesting approach you use here, and quite addicting in its own way. Anyways, there's one thing I would change, and that's the fact that some of your sentences run on way too long and seem to wander about (but maybe the fact that it's a blog makes this OK, I guess). It's actually quite interesting how you describe your situation, and the revelation of the fact at the end that chances are this person is someone on trial makes this sort of like an older tale - one I seem to remember was a story about someone about to be hung, pictured running away and all, I don't remember who wrote it, but it reminded me of that story. |
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