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Monday, February 27, 2006


amber gardens
the pain of the cradle seemingly rocks back and forth, beneath the tremour of the rising shadow that creeps like steady death. The illusion of peace is given off in a putread smell, the dull metal clang always registers in the back of my mind. The poor heartbreak of a fair young innocent, our existence in this world is quite complex. To slouch in shame of losing everything one may have lived for is a sick fairytale dreaded by all. I`m afraid I can no longer remember the tune in which we played by. oh how sad is the illusion of happiness it`s a pity many do not understand that balance stands in the wake. I can`t.... I don`t comprehend the reasons of our being here. Why can`t you smile dearly in my direction? Is it so difficult to stare and gaze without waver?

to be continued..

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