:(Soufflez-l'hors de votre oreille):

"(Figure it out for your self)"

Friday, July 13, 2007


I'm lost in a field of swirling voices.
Gentle colors bathed in pain.
Their whispers singing all around me.
I'll never understand them all,
as they permeate the air i breathe.

They torture me with shattered cries.
They are the weak, the hungry, the poor.
They glow against an off green sky.
They beg for help, they beg i try.

What can i do, i am a man.
I contribute more than most.
To the pain upon which they boast.
Surreal lights fade in and out,
giving off a pale hue.

Orange and blue and purple are used,
To portray their saddened feelings true.
Unsure of where i am,
Do i walk upon dry land?

There is no substance,
Only lights and voices,
as they cloud my mind,
and rake my soul.

I am drug through open coals.
I am tossed in open water.
I am flung through open air.
I am abandoned in open space.

Thoughts come faster now,
As i begin to piece this puzzle.
Can i help them all?


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