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Obliterated Pains
Shattered glass on the ground.
Still silence obliterates sound,
Join on the trail of my ball gown.
Hall of mirrors all around,
Chilling darkness leading down.
Discarded reveries are only found.
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This poem is based on an entry I put in an English journal long ago. I spoke on what my darkest points of life look like. From my mind's eye I traveled through a hall of mirrors, cold chipped stones paved around with a cracked and chipped fountain. The fires of my mind destroyed the memories burning them to ash.
The photo is not my own, keep in mind.