Friday, May 27, 2011

Coma

White even with the night
Cold that which is old
silence born through violence
bold but yet the stories told

coma

dreams are but my screams
replaid those memories made
dread has made my bed
played those tunes inlaid

coma

nothing soothes the nothing
brain which cannot explain
Heart that really has no part
in vain, which keeps me sane

coma

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