deep, deep down
the shelter it hinges upon a dream
a fortress of winged aspirations
not my own, but of another
have they become mine, the taste for them is so real
bloody finger tips compensate me
show the story as an ever familiar reality
make it so, they twitter -tweet, sickening sweet
a smell I can't quite place, angst?
calluses of the most remote undertaking
freewill becomes a banished apparition
locked between soul and sand, time and land
best to forget the beginning, now is the constant driving force
2/20/11- Meeka
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