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there is a place, within the realms of imagination,
a place of pain, and dull scars,
there is a place inside of my head
with magic lighting bugs, magic screaming frogs, and
dazzling rain drops, that fall from the stars above
Paper butterflys, the ones that flit in and out of an open flame
Keeping at bay
the tentacle monsters,
the ones that call my name
Let the fog of this place manifest on my flesh,
let it swallow me up,
for I do not wish to live
in this this place that has driven
The icy wind to whip me into submission
The merciless rain to fall on my virgin skin,
sending the strangest of sensations down my spine.
I openly accept this torture of sin,
The shadows, my playmates are coming in
There is no time to play in this world of hate
There is no time too save me, no it's to late.
This is my world, now that you all can see
the truth of my soul
- by Ellectric Eccentric |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 05/28/2009 |
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- Title: tale of the children
- Artist: Ellectric Eccentric
- Description: ...can you guess what it means?
- Date: 05/28/2009
- Tags: children
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Comments (4 Comments)
- Ellectric Eccentric - 07/08/2009
- To alea067:not really, but I guess it could be seen as such. (n_n)
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- sycophant paradox - 07/04/2009
- its about death....
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- Cottoncandyocbra3 - 05/29/2009
- Nice enough imagery. Some of the lines are colloquial, but this isn't too bad. Work on asserting your own poetic voice, and practice that. Keep writing.
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- china girl 1 - 05/28/2009
- Wow, I love the first part!
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