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Ill never stop fighting igniting the flame of desire
candle light that tames me so rightly
Height is my leverage as I pledge to you now
cowardly hearts beat out of sound
The ground is so thick with inverted desire
heavenly angels come gathering around
Anticipation it kills me from now within
sin has fallen into the tin cup
Disturbed is my logic that welted now up
broken and shattered like the pain inside of me
Maybe one day it will of forgiven
since you cant exchange that severance
The advantage I face has left
fallen from grace and now to my death
The last breath I breath is on your account
for it was loves twisted envy I couldn't do without
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Submitted: May 17, 2008
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Author's Comments

was being random again. :matrixfight:
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Comments


random is good

THIS is good

xo!

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I am a poetry admin for *DailyLitDeviations.

interested in collaborating?
writer, photographer, painter, whatever(er) -
I'll mix with words with anything you've got.
:bulletred: currently on collab hiatus
Disturbed is my logic..... logically disturbed my tutor would say .



nice work.

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I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is.
be random more often...

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Every poem can be considered in two ways--as what the poet has to say, and as a thing which he makes.
C. S. Lewis
Tyte! Liked the line, "Ill never stop fighting igniting the flame of desire
candle light that tames me so rightly"

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Focus on GOD! Don't take criticism to heart and compliments to your head, and you'll remain grounded. Better to be lifted up to the position of a king, than forcefully taking it...

Club:
~LoVinG-MzAnTsi
yep yep.. :nod:

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"U and I don't need PERMISSION to be UNIFIED" - Lisa (lefteye) Lopes
Trying to be more random.

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"U and I don't need PERMISSION to be UNIFIED" - Lisa (lefteye) Lopes
Thank you kindly

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"U and I don't need PERMISSION to be UNIFIED" - Lisa (lefteye) Lopes
:) xx

--
I don't listen to what art critics say. I don't know anybody who needs a critic to find out what art is.
good for you:)

--
Every poem can be considered in two ways--as what the poet has to say, and as a thing which he makes.
C. S. Lewis

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