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To The Unknown

Poetry By: Love Reaper

I'm afraid, if I give it a name, it will no longer be real.

Submitted:Sep 17, 2012    Reads: 4    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

With each crease in a smile there urkes an earthquake in each nerve and palm.
How the grasp of the feel, chocking its reality into fiction becomes drained in fear of the let go, of darkness and fear.
And yet there is no more strength to hold.
Now let go and forgotten like the color of the skin until its mirror presents itself of ah, look! here with the breath again.
Surrounded with fresh glory; peace, with which was once before drowning in a box full of doubt....
Here again also lies the feel of fidget and hype of how this look could kill with each raised brow with a pow! of secret fondness; beauty.
Rapid palpation, an everyday deed, except for this, when this blissful white light of sound smells of hope and delight, but is only partial through discovery and the discovery, there is a need to find, what lies.
What lies in those truthful eyes.


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