In this barth of sparsly woven pages
Laden with memoirs not yet lived
Comes forth parsects of understanding
Failing to find comfort in my hands
Darting hither with the utmost vigour
Toppling even the grandest of my illusions
Coming to grips within the heat of my thoughts
To find all the mysteries of the soul searching
Hours were truely wasted bogged down insecure
Fragments of the vacuums hidden in the hearts of all
Not to be revived by any means
A conquest most hideous to be found so simply
Answered for all the answers were there to be had
For in all my pain and torment.......
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