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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    bleak exit

    dwindles the eve as the day dies shortwinter weeps for no oneshiver in its cold embracecynical fact sarcastic lamentthere are few things I like lessthen a grey unforgiving daytormented wonder my delusions of granduerseeking the Gods of yesterdayto amuse...

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    • well this is quite grand. It’s like you were fighting the urge of feeling overwhelmed. So you wrote out an incantation to ward off the bad spirits? You slayed it!
      Really interesting write, Crims. Very much so.

      • good evening dearest Styxian thank you graciously these are just feelings and fears I try to always write in a current mindset I’m happy it worked for you have a beautiful Evening ❤️

    • Oh! This is good, Brenda. Right up my alley.

      • hello dearest Adagio thank you graciously it’s so funny to me it happens to us a lot and I swear I didn’t even peak at your poem till after ❤️have a great day…

    • sometimes, even the sun cannot help when a “cynical fact sarcastic lament” is involved, but becomes magnified when the day is grey. and sometimes there are only vague answers to our ceaseless whys, and yet we cannot help but ask for them. Ironic isn’t it? we are born, we live, we die, and in between these events, there is only the moment and what we do with each one of them. Did we only exist? Or did we make a difference?

      Thanks for your poem, Crimsin. I enjoyed reading it and where it led me.

      Curt

    • Powerfully penned, Brenda. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

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    Crimsin wrote a new post

    in my tower weep

    deep I go and deeper stillcultivating sadness it shines inside of me why deny itsweet melancholy serenades in the shadowsquietly I play my melodymetiqulously I climb the notes into my black dintheir is cackling accompanied by whispersthe horde reside...

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    • Powerfully penned, Brenda. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • Thia is a deeply moving poem, Crimsin. I felt especially those last 3 line. And the music made the poem more real to me, more tragic. To desire death, yet condemned to life, where only sadness can be found. And yet, there is also the deeply felt desire to be “understood”. Crimsin, you may not want anyone in your “onyx tower”, but your poem calls to us nonetheless. Is this not an invitation to at least feel your words?

      You write powerfully, Crimsin.

      Curt

    • hello dearest Curt of course it is I hope to move always that you got it makes me happy thank you ❤️

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    M.E wrote a new post

    Thawed: Or, Love And Losses In Days Of Lockdown

    It’s cold in this time of the year And it reminds me of your hands There were no hands But there was some warmth Maybe from this thread of conversations Days of Q’s and A’s Days of exchanging stories, And some thoughts On how hearts can be...

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