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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Trying to come to terms with the past whilst finding something to believe in.

Submitted: September 29, 2006

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Submitted: September 29, 2006



Subtle shadows always dancing
The fire within remembers why
Now before me, the enchanting
I dance and sing with my mistakes

Rivers trading, I’m debating
Floodgates open up my past
Always hiding, afraid of fighting
The icy sheets now come to life

I am a witness for the silence
The judge and jury want me dead
To talk would bring such hateful violence
I close my eyes and pray instead

Navigating, patience waiting
Sins are always right behind
Bloody water, dying daughters
Sins are eating at my boat
Afraid of sinking, I’ll write a note

"Help I’m dying, sick of trying
I’m tired of running off the edge
Help I’m wounded, despite what you did
I fail to stand and run ahead
In this race of empty statements
I just don’t what to believe
In this street of dying preachers
I fail to see why you receive
The failing words of the bereaved"

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