Sounding out initial pain
the voice forseen from another domain.
Separate realities search and refrain,
one escapes the midnight train.
Tension bites the rivers edge,
driving forceful like a sledge.
Can not the pain be pierced by thought?
Then why oh why have not?
Escape me shadows to and fro
let emotions come and go.
Leave them alone and they'll go home
so the story tends to show.
In a whirlwind clustered thought
with an echo and all I've got.
Tempt the virtues, I'm not there,
I live inside a circled square.
The prisms got incrypted walls.
Not for tension, not for scrawlls.
They are not there, but come again
when you can know them and depend.
The mist is not for everyone,
though are not some alone for fun?
Scribbling on thier vacant walls,
farther from the reach of calls?
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