Thorns can be trusted,
It is the betrayal, I am
pained of.
Voices can be silenced,
It is the noises, I am
awakened of.
Misery can cause riots,
It is the fake composure, I am
derailed of.
Swords can be slaved,
It is the masters, I am
ravaged of.
Death can be certain,
It is the uncertainty, I am
afraid of.
This is a superb piece. Thank you for following BrewNSpew and it’s good to meet you.
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Thanks. Good to meet you too 🙂
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Wow !
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Thanks
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betrayal and uncertainty….both are equally disturbing
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Brilliant 🙂
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Thanks 🙂
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