The Prognosis of a CureA Poem by Kenneth Nicholas Lowe
I broke myself in two
To see what I'll become I hurt myself, it's true But compares to nothing that I've done I took my first steps today Away from the life I've known I stood before my end With tears and broken soul Is it I who never let, the tides of my fate ebb Is it me who lives in infallible dreams, till this end Is it right that I remain numb, to my mindless hurt Is it just to re-live the screams, of my work Do not test my faith For I know it's just a lie Do not heal my pain For this is what I desire Does it hurt you in the dark When your left with thoughts of me Does it break your morning mind When in the mirror you see me Is it right to hate, all these things I've done Is it a test of faith, for more that's yet to come Is it hurting you right now, when you hear my words Is it freedom when to take flight, or is it a curse Will you hold me back When I'm about to breath Will you break my mind When I reach the living sane Am I a fool for hope Riding out into a storm Am I a living proof Of all that's wrong Is it god's mistake, my placement on earth Is it the devil's revenge for all his divine work Is it true that I bring death, to all that's good and pure Is it just my aching head, from trying to find a cure © 2014 Kenneth Nicholas LoweReviews
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StatsAuthorKenneth Nicholas LoweMelbourne, Victoria, AustraliaAboutBorn to the Human Race, I live in the land of India for the time being with a major ancestral inclinations to the Anglican and Celtic anthropological denominations. With that being said, My day job.. more..Writing
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