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Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in The Poetry of Rygar
my life, the lie, and pain
Lies upon lies, my life is but naught,
Cry as I pry my heart from never,
Even though the truths that I’ve taught,
Could go on and on through to forever.
Belief in my love is lacking of late,
The grief that comes back in as pain,
Kills the growing spirit just to sedate,
Spills my blood near it to re-cloud my brain.
Words bite bitterly and tear at my flesh,
Exposing the center of which I hold dear,
Three months past and the wound is still fresh,
I see this will last year after year.
Amazing how one person can hold so much sway,
Grazing the wound that cut to the core,
I pray to the Gods to take this away,
I really just can’t take anymore.