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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2163393
a poem to a friend
The Truth,

What I shall say,

What I possess,
it's the key to all the riches, it's the key to all success,

It enlightens and gives rest,
to all the pains, to all the aches,

Its sole pursuit, would be the cause, of all delusion,
quand te trouves que c'est une farce, que c'est une illusion,

Mais on dit que on la connait, juste pour te faire une petite blague,
when all the wise men and all fools will know it's just a lie,

They would find my approach, a little hypocrite,
when I say I hold the real et plutot je l'ecris,

This verity, is what exists, and what exists it's not,
it's what's simple and complex, the coldest and still hot,

What is dead and, more, what never dies,
it's also what is truth and yet it's only lies,

Those who claim to know it are also victims of its game,
they claim to be so distinct while in the inside are the same,

So listen carefully and don't listen to this,
free yourself from folie and find the one you missed.

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