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Peacelessness


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The night has briefed me on my recklessness. The trees have bloomed with a fatigue never seen before, as if they alone stood watch, as if I regarded them with an ugliness; a slumped lovelessness bent toward casualty.

(Peace is not elusive, you are blind.)

When I toss peace to the way side, I'll have murdered the one beautiful thing that needn't be defined in order for me to comprehend its power.

Peace...

© 2011 by mark prime



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