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by Edward Latina Mar 3, 2008 category : Sadness, depression / about death
Walking through this mist, I can not feel my fists. Would I only miss, This endless frightful bliss. Calling to those falling, Their eyes so appalling. Regret, fear, and pain, They look away with disdain. This life of mine, unraveling, I find my self start traveling. My feet carry me onward, The direction never forward. Would none of this be real, There's nothing left to steal. I scream and cry till death, No one hears my last breath.
by XxMizz DistructionxX
Good poem. keep writing. =]