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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-09-18 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Isolation is devastation
But one soul, is a whole. Living in your own theory is not open to others clearly. Being locked in your room brings ironic pleasure with dour and doom. Never seeing societies warmth and care, hold your body to yourself to never share. The repulsive perversion, of hatred adversion, will get the loner nowhere, yet crying in despair: "Why must blood be thicker than water, If I was not in condonation I could have caught her!" The dreams are merely wishes and intuition, lay alone in one's mental condition. Being condemned to your gallow leaves all opportunity shallow. Others are neccesary to achieve, though lonliness is an easy path to grieve. I don't want the world to see, not a single thought, not a single theory. For they will misconstrue and jeer, Yet they all seem not far from here. One's own strength is weak, and leaves you questioning and bleak. You can never do it all on your own. Others are entwined, you are never alone.
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