When HollowedA Poem by Bryän
Too often now, I wonder what I am.
Dislocate my wrist; remove my ears and heart. Then what would remain? Why, only a sham; drifting on towards Death's rampart. Blessed automaton, you can ignore the grand scale, live in your Avalon, and not see your life's so stale. My fortune is less. I can't deceive myself. This emptiness I always address.
© 2013 BryänReviews
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StatsAuthorBryänGermantown, WIAboutHey, I'm Brian. Just a guy that enjoys playing bass, singing, composing, and of course writing. I started writing at the age of 12 after realizing I couldn't stop thinking about a certain dream I had.. more..Writing
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