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As I walking along , not sure where yet I still walk… the path is dark and crowded with people but not people their faces are painted they all know truth yet they paint themselves the path is bright and there is knowledge everywhere. The painted people know more so much more then all and any other people yet they are bloated, disease ridden , deformed by their own hands, forcing poisons and pain upon themselves . The paint bleeds out of there chest poring as a tainted fountain in a desert land . The paint claws its way up to their faces and though some fight to remove it to stem the flow. however they then in a moments notice at the sight of the painted people who walk as if their face is clean they welcome the paint and rush to apply it to there faces. As I walk on I reach for my face I feel the paint on my face. I see a pond I run to it. leaning over I see half covered the left side of my face buried under a white sheet painted to look happy and alive. Eye wide open yet my eye is closed. Then with a rushing splash I see it before me he speaks “you see what befalls you all those around you but you refuse to accepted the fate why?. Fearing he that stands before so I run through the crowds of painted people. I press on till I fall to the ground gasping… to be continued
- by Ethehunter |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 09/04/2008 |
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- Title: view from the open eye
- Artist: Ethehunter
- Description: This is a work in progress inspired by Dante's inferno
- Date: 09/04/2008
- Tags: viewlifetruth
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