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Guest post: Beautiful Scars

June 22, 2017

Never were our names uttered

without a slip of the tongue,

a hint of anger,

a stench of mockery.

 

Forgotten we were,

when feet hasten for glory.

Quiet and dark was our world.

 

The stillness edges in,

we breathe hard,

we suffocate,

we question our existence.

 

Lies lies,

doubt fear,

nothing makes sense,

nothing to pull us back.

We awaken as a force to reckon.

 

Writer’s Dream

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