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The death of an age brings about the birth of histories and legends.

Bitter Creation

It's only forever, not long at all

mona lisa

Use caution; for absinthe is but a slow poison.

Bitter Creation

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We wander through this forest
Of parallel rows of oaken giants
The wind is whispering in the grass and through the leaves
All I hear is rushing
Everything is always in such a hurry
Scurrying for the abyss
Even my thoughts won't slow down but for a long drink
Of slow green poison
You gathered for me a bundle of daisies
To stir inspiration for my creations
And we danced in the tall grass
But a darkness fell across your face like a black veil
And I found I knew you no more

I told you "I don't write words anymore"
In our fleeting conversation
As I desperately tried to keep you
You were my inspiration
But you left me alone on the edge of the precipice
With only a few parting words:
"Your self is all that you have"

I threw our last crumpled pages into the blackness
And they turned to dust before my eyes
A glint of red caught in the corner of my vision
As I saw my sanctuary shriveled and dried
A flood of murky water flowed through the dead trees
Carrying with it my creations,
Their beauty rotting away like a thousand putrefied corpses
And the daisies you gave to me for inspiration
Turned to ash at my touch

I tried to forget about creation
Painful memories of your smile and your eyes
As we danced and sang beautiful verses
I tried to oppress the muse
But creation cannot be subdued
My aria turned to a scornful elegy
As twisted and horrific visions overtook me
All I can taste is bitter repugnance
All I can envision is chaotic despair

Nothing of beauty can come from these hands
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