it always passes, but leaves behind a piece
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of incompleteness, hollowing the soul while
leaving the mind to wonder, just what it would have been, if never so had these thralls of repulse been set at my soul's door.
Each of these pieces builds up after time, building an empire of emptiness, a loneliness that can never quite be mended.
And while the emptiness manifests, the soul searches once more, only to be discarded as a piece of driftwood, to be repetitively cast upon the different shores of desire, and washed of all color and meaning.
And as the heart yearns for more, the soul pleads for serenity, an undying struggle of remorse to last all of eternity.
Some view the affinity as a social uplifting, brought about to satisfy the deployment of one's psyche. Some view it as a spiritual interdiction, ranked with the supreme of imprisonments of modern institutions. But then some view it as a completion of the search for equilibrium, a justifying understanding of one's pure existance.
visionsofmemoriespast c 1998