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Just something that is not complete yet. Any comments are much appreciated. |
My soul is crying to call this home, but I dont think I belong here. My soles retreat from the places I've known, because I know my time has run out here. Oh, if you could only return me home, I feel I'm caught in cross fires, of the coflicting past and the sworn or broken future, all the little remnants of the present merge together. The detached ticket stub... ...the departing train. My mind is longing for that final sleep, if i can just have one last week to wander these corridors in which I once walked, and felt I held your hand, felt closer to the prize than any other time. I would accept penance, and walk amongst the accursed. But now... now i feel this is the most I will be given. Now I watch you walk away taking memories that you wouldn't let me make. Oh time is cruel, and its running away from me, running from you, but we cannot control the clocks that will never stop. If this is home, and there is so much for me to stay for, then why, why must i feel that i dont belong here anymore than the cold ceilings damp? October leaves covered everything, as far as the eye can see, but now that April skies are clear I can see that I do not belong here. If you would only let me leave I need to dream a final sleep. |