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a life with no direction, pain |
Broken Man As a grain of sand settles on the sun's bleached shores, pain is there. Each memory washed in the sun of twisted perceptions. Time is the enemy of old ways and used ideas. Tranquility a thought. Fleeting as it may be, it strives to satisfiy the the distance of feeling. Each aggressive action brings the inner turmoil to new hieghts. A confusion so deep with its layers of warpped thinking and spoiled plots. A consious step in the direction of insightful ingestion. He so feverishly tangles webs of protection that no guidence can breach. In ways so profoundly pitiful `serenity is chased. An obsession never followed. It is a dream lost in the mind of the drifter. He seeks a place in life but knows nothing but his nomadic ways. What loss he feels. A man staind with the dirt of traveled roads that have no end. The reaches of a mind so simply complicated find nothing within its grasps. Answers seem so far yet they are so close so close... How has he come to this life of defeat with no dreams realized. He is upon the sea of lonliness with no island in sight. For one who dies before death is granted how can he tell. How can he move on from this life if he has never lived to all its glory. The broken man trudges on. |