| Open Poetry #18 |
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Plague |
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craigrk Member
since 2001-12-23
Posts 123
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A cure they shouted to no one there, dynamically vexed yet proud - only diseased dying numbers stopped count, mortality is common ground. Stumbling homeless, searching hopeless some magic atonement with sour-shriveled skin knowing the roach, forgiven by worm, untold futures march in. |
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| © Copyright 2002 craigrk - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ecrivan Member Elite
since 2001-12-10
Posts 3923my own state |
Quite an original topic on this site, my understanding may be off but I take it that this was intended to express man's temporary existance in the flesh? Well expressed, and welcome to passions ![]() |
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