Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

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The palace of my deepest thoughts
Lies rotten and limp, like neglected fruit.
I've spun a web of silk and despair,
Daring any insect to drift into it.
My mind is cloudy with regrets,
To the point where looking in the mirror
Proves to be painful.
This puzzle is missing pieces,
Annoying like a cold, ungloved hand
Searching for its mate.
Instead of tenderness, I'm met with ignorance
And so the search continues.
When I find my mind cloudless, I wonder
If I can spread my wings like a grand eagle
And become weightless in the sunlight as I fly...

12-27-11


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