Shahista swellam


All Is But Futile

Through the darkness I moved,  
sensing emptiness embodied in vague gloom
Nothing is what it seems or near to what is true,  
All is but a shattered memory of what i used to be.

Angry, and why should I not be?
All is but a horrifying manifestation of what I need not heal.
Desrie is over whelming, breeding on the inside of me 
All is but a lie of a hurting truth so much

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