literature

Emptiness in Broken Hands

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Literature Text

Bring down the sky,
for I have sought destruction,
mayhem is in my name,
for it calls out to me.
My love is but a dream,
a ghost in the midst,
a distant memory in an empty shell,
and a truth long false.
I am not but a ghost in this shell,
long broken but ever mended,
roaming a mind sowed with sorrow,
looking for something in the dark,
blind except for hands,
bring me the deaf for we shall be good company.
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