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letra de at nile's edge - 137 (us)

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everywhere that i look
i see another character in a book
and i know, for laymen, it can be so hard to understand that
truly, you either grandstand or stand grand

i’ve seen the sitcom-livers
every episode, is the same, as the next
despite the strength of my liver
lips fear complacence more than absinthe

trying to capture pain on a piece of paper
and light the way for the paths that taper
they told me pen beats the sword
but nonе conveyed it’s a handlelеss saber
t–thing
don’t mind waiting
for what’s to come

there are leeches
but i’m wading
in this marsh’s tum

i am, making a concerted effort to better myself
making great progress in recent years
pertaining to intrusive thoughts
and strides were made in quelling my compulsions and obsessions
what my hands have wrought is testament to channeling fixations

since a young man
fought to stymie
all of the roots of l-st and fear
figuring out that apathy can be a slew
or instrument to bear
the more that i’ve mapped
the route of success
the more that i’ve learned of its true foundation
the greats are defined by amount of abstraction
from kantian representation

but, sometimes i feel i’m unraveling
one wrap at a time
solely dust comes out of both my tear ducts
’cause mummies can’t f-cking cry
reading
all red pages
in this book of pain

ether told me
what it tells all sages
“scribe and thy woes shall wane”

and i’d like, to expound
on a term that i’ve passed around
and coined symbol fixation
give your attention
to my ensuing explanation

we gather money for the sake of accruement
we marry another, forgetting the union
we strive for a streak while forsaking the purpose
we live out a holiday, losing the meaning
we fight for a grade and discard all retention
we savor the wrapping much more than the present
we focus on tool and reject its utility
lost in tradition or drunk on the sentiment

sour moods, can beget sweet tones
inquietude, bears a strange allure
bones, broken to a metronome
but no brine in my ducts to conjure
my flesh, is a sieve
that my youth does fade through
gauze, on my wounds
but the ink seeped right through

your reflection’s always skewed
when searching for it in another’s eyes
i am more than sum of what my kin or kith surmise

if i had to glean my worth
from the change in another’s visage
then i’d count my success
by the smiles that i garner while in passage

some can’t see
the sequoia in the seed
that doesn’t mean
that i must plead
in fact, i’m my healthiest
when i unclench fists
and i let him lead

loneliness is a room full of people
each soul with a heart out of reach
it’s a cry unattended and a kiss that’s rescinded
it’s a church with no ears for the sermon you preach

loneliness is a puzzle piece that’s fought to find its match
but, ‘spite its efforts still remains a runt of the mosaic
it’s a rip within a quilt that’s strived to find its fitting patch
it’s a line midst metered verse that still remains prosaic

loneliness is stranger’s sweet smile
fluttering heart from a soft hand’s touch
the sweet chirps of a songbird on windowsill
fading in a short while
slipping invariably from clutch
flying to grace another place with all its heart can trill

every day begins another battle to stay balanced
i feel burnout prowling, waiting for my safety fence to fail
i inquired into whether i would weather feather
anubis told me the weight of all my talents wouldn’t tilt the f-cking scale

hoping i could make anthem for the tired, lonely souls
pen has barely scratched the surface though when it comes to these woes

whether you are searching for some respite or a true love’s kiss
raise your f-cking glasses to the air when i say this

bleeding
as i pick up all the shards
of my shattered soul

but i must say
my reflection still is whole

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