Awaken from sleep, by a grave-robber who toils in inconveniences, mired in
compassion, steeped in hollow tragedy. Robbed of life by the fear, gripping fear
of indecisiveness, keeping tragedy close, clothed and bathed in reassuring second guessing,
resting on the lips of everything that is pure.
She whispered "you.. cant give me what I need", and my heart bent, twisted and crumbled. Off to sleep again, in the grave meant for me, to be awakened by grave-robbers toiling in
misery.
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