a madness to feel


the worst terror of a being
the most gentle of doves
why does feeling have to be so rough?
in our darkest hours
a rose grows with no thorns
only to wither from feeling which mourns
true beauty hides from within
to reveal itself of chaos and sin
what happened to the light?
it was so crystal-clear
feeling of man made it disappear
so shameful pride which one has stood
cuts out the tongue
to protect all great things that could

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