blather
when_the_poetry_is_over
Deomis When the poetry is over
When it all should be dead and gone
That's the time the poetry
Back unto me comes

A thousand words for a paradise
A thousand words writ for dread
Rushing and all tumbling
Through the chaos in my head

But the poetry is over
The last has come and gone
And you know that these words I say
Are words that shan't live one
050421
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arwyn only prose remains. Is it the death of beauty, or the beginning of the circle anew? I think the latter. No matter what, someone always finds a way to make beauty happen. In the middle of a desolate wasteland, there's always someone creating. Music. Art. Words. Pictures. Sounds. You just have to look for it. 181029
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unhinged only prose remains. added punctuation to clarify. predictable structures, sentences, paragraphs.

silent_money

blurring_the_edges
181030
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unhinged jim_carroll 181030