You feel a little strange,
When you feel the usual fiery hate,
Or perhaps the passionate love,
That you once used to have seem to lose it's natural taste,
The guidance of thy will and desire,
Can no longer satisfy what's to come,
It's like being trapped in a maze,
Trying to move,
Trying to live,
Wondering whether I'm progressing in the puzzle of life.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Holding On
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