As it seems
Sometimes life just strikes you as worthless, love is loveless and speech is silent. If i were to look in the direction of above i would see the light of my savour as most say. Though truthfully i look above and see a radience that burns my eyes, because what is to be believed is a wretched lie. Even more so life is a burnt piece of exsistense what higher so said power wishes to place, yet we cannot drift to what we believe. If i were to look to the wind for answers all i can hear it say is drift away, soar with what is the breeze and never return. But to leave love is to leave soul, yet with love i do not feel whole. In the midst i wish to take flight, but looking to the sky still burns as staring below is what i truelly yern. Power of hate, destruction of loneliness, though that feeling will still remain. The feeling of fate, is left in my vanes.
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