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And when I am what I am I'd want
To spit the life out of me,
My soul to drown in oceans of blood
With bitter waves and sharp shapes of hatred.
And the mirror I'd want to break with my fist
And take my humiliation to the edge
Whore! bastard! mindless! idiot!
I am just a ghost illussion, nightmare
Haunting a world where I have no place left.
My heart's a rain of bile in an evergreen forest
Seagull with broken wings, covered in oil.
I'm alone, I hate you, leave me alone.


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The following comments are for "Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow."
by Dew Of Blood

Dew Of Blood
Well, how shall I comment on this poem? I guess I shall start off with your flow; it reminds me of a surface of a ragged rock or unsanded wood. Due to its lack of power, I feel the message is disturbed by it. With appropriate inserted rhymes and a few inserted commas and perhaps a simily or metaphor, this poem could be a perfectly painted portrait.

~The Lord

( Posted by: Lord Alexandre [Member] On: April 1, 2003 )

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