Keylan Roberts Poems
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Ignorant bliss, that fearless notion.
Prepares me for nothing, in this endless ocean.
Tranquil hopes, with gray mingled in.
Captures my faith, spawns my unborn sin.
Wading through thoughts, an absinthe filled flask.
The questions remain, to the answers I ask.
A glance in my mirror, is a shot in the ground.
It shakes and it quakes, but no blood is found.
A riddle some say, to life's puzzling test.
The dead must awake, so the living can rest.
The birds must fall, so the sky can remain.
And the pain increase, so the fluid can drain.
There is blood ...