The lonely tide is rising
Chances of flying are slim
The blackness closing in
Behind me comes that terrible din.
You wait until that moment
When you think your words are right
Find them empty, falling
Lonely, useless in the night.
Pictures in my mind
Translate to words on my page
Is it allowable for me
To use this pen to free rage?
There's a hurt, a stab, a sting.
Curious what we allow in...
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