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Literature Text
Pain is woven into the fabric of my life.
It has been my friend and my foe.
It has empowered me and crippled me.
Pain has brought me crushingly to my knees, only to give me the bitter strength to stand with ease
Pain is liquid in my tears and vapor in my fear.
At times pain grips me so tightly it leaves me lost and lifeless,
But at other times that same pain gives me the courage to live righteous.
The damage and the beauty of pain intertwine,
Like a seductive dance gracefully lingering until the end of time.
Pain has always been and will always be,
A tragically beautiful part of me.
It has been my friend and my foe.
It has empowered me and crippled me.
Pain has brought me crushingly to my knees, only to give me the bitter strength to stand with ease
Pain is liquid in my tears and vapor in my fear.
At times pain grips me so tightly it leaves me lost and lifeless,
But at other times that same pain gives me the courage to live righteous.
The damage and the beauty of pain intertwine,
Like a seductive dance gracefully lingering until the end of time.
Pain has always been and will always be,
A tragically beautiful part of me.
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Literature
Ignorant Wisdom
The best of us die young
Why?
We are blood and body
Mind and muddled matter
That decays from the very air
Necessary like an addiction
Our eyes are skin and sinew
Senses intaking a surface
But to the machine of faults
What is there lost to us?
The best of us are of will
As what will be passed belief
The demanding of subconscious
Edicts of the soul
Then why do they die?
Why must a will be severed
When it drives our existence
All that there is
And will ever represent us?
Why do vessels feed the muscle?
Bones hold up our legs
And a head with strong neck
That its aspirations rise?
The best of us accomplish
Tasks of a higher calibre
Like a
Literature
Dead love
When love dies
Leaving behind the shreds
Of something that was once beautiful
A little bit of you
Of who you really are
Dies along with it
As your broken heart
Slowly falls apart
Bringing you excruciating pain
It doesn't matter
How many times it happens
The pain is the same
Getting used to it
Doesn't help one bit
And we never learn the lesson
For we keep opening ourselves
Only to face disappointment
Again and again
In the end of it all
Only the memories remain
Both good and bad
Filling our minds
And raising questions
The "Why" and the "How"
That led something pure
Something seemingly perfect
To utter oblivion
Such sadness and pain
Leave sc
Literature
Thinking of Me and You
It seemed almost like
You were right there again,
Just waiting for me
With your hands outstretched.
But it was just a dream,
And even though I knew it,
I still cried when I woke up,
Thinking of me and you.
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a therapy project to define pain.
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Really i love it, you're a good artist!