The Living
By VocoKool
In the fury of man’s blindness, Can he decipher the truth between right and true wrong? Problems arise from the depths of hell, They burn into your soul like a rapid fire raging through your veins, In hell, you swim until you reach the bottom, The rocks hurt, The beauty of such an immense pain is this; that where a man is able to predict the future, he may erase the past. If his past belongs to that of which he cannot return, then he will go forward with a reversed frivolous passion and a complete absence of anger. It is this that makes a man and it this that man makes himself. Above and beyond carried the strong warrior to his death. Live old. EJ Karlson January 21st, 2002I am not to sure if I like this poem. If you agree please hit me with some hard constructive criticism! Written February 7th, 2002 © on Feb 07 2002 09:33 AM PST 10 • 0 • 12
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"In the fury of man’s blindness,..."