Saturday, November 5, 2011

Life is simply the product of inertia
A type of havoc with illusory future
A cut that cannot be healed with sutures
A depressed rut , kneeled before searchers
Movement that is not displacement
True intent, clot of defacement
Longing for sentient symmetry
Belonging to no ministry
Crawling systematically towards misery
Intentionally falling into a whole mad mystery

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