bless the dust that hides, by Loneliness is condescending Subscribe to rss feed for Loneliness is condescending

Music strings and hearts
Circling my slumber
Tightens and strumming, weaving, beating, living
Laugher gifts and songs 
The heartstrings of my life
Losing, fading, dusty and unkempt 
Rough hands, taking, wanting, pulling and UN a justing 
To quickly
Snapping, breaking, a sickening sound
 Empty sound a cunning fleeing sound, nothing
Waiting its over now and I am lost
Words nothing empty
Pointless this is foolish 
It was all forsaken from the start but even with the blood
Of our wounded souls 
From self inflected pleasure 
We counted on from the start 
In losing our self we trusted we were stronger
Then the ones who designed the game and gave us breath 
Posted: 2006-07-26 03:30:29 UTC

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2006-07-26 04:05:17lost the lonely dead
i do remember thinking i liked this one, i love a few key phrasess like 'from self-inflicted pleasure'