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Literature Text
It is fascinating what the nights teach us
From the very beginning
Until the very end
They teach us how to fall asleep
And create dreams
How to ponder on past days
And plan for the future
How to pray to God
And thank the sky
How to kiss
And make love
How to relive memories
And shed tears
How to give in to pain
And give up on life
For me
The nights taught me how to sob without a breath
And scream without a sound
How to still my heartbeats
And weep without tears
How to shiver under thick blankets and under bitter cold
How to hate my soul
And this indifferent world.
From the very beginning
Until the very end
They teach us how to fall asleep
And create dreams
How to ponder on past days
And plan for the future
How to pray to God
And thank the sky
How to kiss
And make love
How to relive memories
And shed tears
How to give in to pain
And give up on life
For me
The nights taught me how to sob without a breath
And scream without a sound
How to still my heartbeats
And weep without tears
How to shiver under thick blankets and under bitter cold
How to hate my soul
And this indifferent world.
Literature
Does it bother you?
Does it bother you
That I am incomplete?
An empty shell
Left behind
Utterly weak.
Does it bother you
That I am broken?
Scattered pieces
Endlessly lost
Never to be spoken.
Does it bother you
That I am defeated?
Lost to the world
Forgotten by all
Forever to be repeated.
Does it bother you
That I am lost?
Forever wandering
In the shadows of life
A whisper never to exhaust.
Does it bother you
That I am enslaved?
By my memories
And darkened thoughts
A soul never to be saved.
Literature
If I was to forget
What would it be like A world without me Mountain tops withering Without me longing Blackened clouds weeping In their sacred rhythms Without me getting drenched What would the world be If I was not watching Winds haunting the seas Lashing them into madness Without me mesmerized By the churning waters What would my body be And where would thoughts come from Without me Judging their each thread And breeding them into Twisted anxieties What would taste feel like Without my experience What would colors be Without me naming them In such arbitrary fashion What would music mean And who would it speak to If I was to Switch off my selfness If I was to forget Trying to own existence
Literature
Self-love
Emotions flowing without shape, a river of songs wild and strange, harmonious light on the surface, dark dissonance lurking beneath, reflecting the beauty found in you, you looked and seeing yourself, fell in love like beautiful Narcissus. Transformed into a flower, I caress your delicate petals, before crushing you in my hands, only to see you reborn again, with your stem covered in thorns.
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Beautiful