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Published by Joshua
How I feel most of the time. (Only on some days to be honest.) Lost, misplaced.
How I feel most of the time. (Only on some days to be honest.) Lost, misplaced.

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Published by: Joshua on Jan 20, 2012
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved


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"I wonder why I even try. Will you save me? Even if a part of me has died?

" In the rain, I cry out. The message, lost in deliverance, in the crashing waves ocean's tide.

Directing vexation in a message relinquished without a second thought or rationalization, The cloud blankets the sky. You run towards shelter, begging for a chance. There's no sign of angels tonight.

In the eventide, you pray in silence, anticipating a chance of survival.

The man who died on the cross, in this prodigious adventure, asked you to beseech him.

You demanded in the mist of the spotlight, "Use your ways of forgiveness to palliate my sins in felicity, eradicate my past--let me fly. Release me from this barren contract."

He shook his head, And never looked back, Turning his back as he made his way towards the divine sovereignty.

Your senses blur, You scream at the contact. "Please don't leave me."

"Why do I even try?"

"I glimpse at the stars. I pour out my frustrations, yet you pass by like a ghost."

The mystical door stands tall, You run en route to the dimensionality, but the doors retreat in advance.

You slowly come to terms with your future.

It's not your time to die.

Move on and advance with your life.

"In the end will there be a hint of forewarning, letting me know it's my time.", you murmured.

Reassuring yourself, There will be no sign of angels tonight.

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