Dust On The Pages

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Medicine Of Despair
Black Cat
bulletsvsbadge wrote in dustonthepages
Title; Medicine Of Despair
Type; Poetry
Summary; The enigma that is life
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           ~ Medicine Of Despair ~

Words of dust float effortlessly in the air,

The clouded truth always weighing down.

As the oxygen morphs to medicine of despair.

And the beeping machines block out sound.


Suffering alone in the vacant, chilled room.

Her breathes flow carelessly from her lips.

Tiny moments fleeing all too soon

Bound only by the threads, and death grip.


This empty vessel, is so full of something else

Something so envied others urge to take

As the pale hands slither in, shadows of stealth.

This poor fellow traveled on a quiet mistake.


A suffering soul is not on the verge of death,

But rather too emerged in life instead.


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