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Post by Veritas on May 2, 2011 9:04:53 GMT -5
In profuse tears shivering, quaking...
Gritting teeth, smiling with avid lunacy
Decimated to the very core A pivilege of rare award
The heat, generated from frustration ... the sweat, appalling Body slick with angry confusion
The fleas open their mouths And slip in their tongues
Tonight is long... They seem to be getting longer...
The sun orbits this hatred ...and it only grows stronger
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Post by Aish on May 2, 2011 10:17:47 GMT -5
A total contrast to the other piece. Fleas... I remember a sea of fleas from a very old piece...this is quaking. Raw. Dangerous.
{Decimated to the very core A pivilege of rare award }
{The sun orbits this hatred ...and it only grows stronger }
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Post by anothersoul on May 4, 2011 23:34:01 GMT -5
This writing piece feels like it has a perfect understanding on the mentality especially with "Tonight is long... They seem to be getting longer..." and "Decimated to the very core" places the projection of the rage to its peek in my eyes
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Post by Time_Spinner on May 15, 2011 16:00:48 GMT -5
I like the idea of lunacy and rage meaning total freedom of restraint and control, almost pure in a sense. This is the vibe I get from this poem; it makes me tremble, though with fear or with want I'm not sure.
"Gritting teeth, smiling with avid lunacy
Decimated to the very core A pivilege of rare award"
I have a soft spot for gritting teeth imagery, and when read out loud, I like how core and aware sound similar. All in all, a lovely read.
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