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Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 10:02 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 10:03 am
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Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 10:05 am
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Plague
Gliding across these familiar halls, Killing all who touch it, The darkness creeps amongst the crowds, Soon all shall perish, Contagious, it spreads, From selfish, quarreling parents, To trusting, unaware children, I stand alone, Soul survivor between the two, But surrounded by the darkness for too long, I too shall be infected,
Far away from this sickness, Safety lies, Among worried friends, Standing with outstretched arms, Waiting to receive me, Tempting me to leave the darkness behind, To abandon those I love, To let them writhe in the dark alone, With no one to care for them, With no one to slow their deaths, To mourn for their loss,
Stay or leave? Hide among these beloved rooms and surely die, Give into the evil that dwells inside me, Cease to be, Flee from certain death, To the ones closest to me, Beg for help, And only bring the darkness with me?
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Posted: Tue Feb 17, 2009 10:06 am
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The Burning Film
Before this, A life like a silent film, Black and white, Flickering on the edges, A slap-stick woman with wild hair, Dances past the screen, Trying desperately to invoke laughter, Imitating other greater actors, No words spill off her tongue, The mouth moves but the throat, Frozen and broken as it is, Is unable to make a sound, The image is scratchy, As though the strip it is made of, May break apart at any moment, Dissipating into black, Burning on the projector, Flames lick the strict frames, Orange light consumes the orderly pictures, Chaotically scattering the remains, Falling apart at its base, Flickering loneliness sears into a colorless heart, Staining it instead with its own colors, The red of hatred, The attention-seeking orange, The irritating yellow, The blue of a drowning soul, The black ash of living death, Its smoldering embers last eternally, Heated by the memories of a broken projector long destroyed, Of an orderly life that can never exist again, It scars the heart past healing, Branding the soul with darkness, One would say that a person would do anything, To cease the pain of the eternal fire, But is the film truly better than what has resulted? Is it better to live in a sea of red, Or be devoid of color entirely? Scream out in agony, Or fake a smile through silent lips? If I had a choice between, The pains of Hell or emotionless Purgatory, I say let there be fire.
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Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2009 3:44 pm
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Posted: Mon Feb 23, 2009 6:39 pm
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Posted: Tue Nov 03, 2009 6:18 pm
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