Bed Of The Dead - Poem by Unic Cjonr
Six sides to the story, one not for me to tell - In the begining was not the begining as was the end not the middle, explained for your mind to believe, what is clever is that you are deceived - Dust in your mouth and dust in your eyes, there is no seconds when death dies your ties - One rope to repair your hope in the lessor of a chair, the bullet which paints your portrait against the wall, the blood which dries around your wrists with the rust which flakes on the blade of the knife, all in one is that you are gone - You want the world to remember your pain, when you are the one who seek to forget, that which switched your story to the end - death does not seek friends, nor the intention to peace your soul when you are in the bed of the dead
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