snapshot
By cait
pure anguish Leaves are thrown harshly through space. Whistling winds wail in the night. I percive it all as an expression of anguish, this feeling of lacking. an emotion without form. a void. I am sorrow without sadness. the world is alive with it. Such is the nature of this. this yearning; boldly, desperately reaching for the intangible In a moment of Lucidity, this goal seems possible. I can reach out to the night and attach face to form, form to conciousness. I can feel them now. the anguish is theirs to own but mine to embody. How unfair, such priveledge. I'm thankful for it.before, I had this up, but took it down. curious vanity always wins... Written January 16th, 2002 © on Jan 15 2002 05:45 PM PST 0 • 12
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"pure anguish..."