2 years ago
WyattHaste
in English · 4,350 Views
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Pieces
An they pull me apart piece by piece, analyzing every broken fragment that still bears strength to hold on to the bigger picture until they see me clearly. A rushed feeling of love and understanding is chased away by a glass of rum on ice. Confidence in the failure, a certain erie strength in the rotten feelings that always get washed away, finally help me shine. Like the light of dawn on a black lake. The fog disappears for the morning than the sun sets like it always does and I'm alone and cloudy as I was in the beginning. A glass of rum, whiskey or bourbon to burn the soul back to purity, or maybe to return the soul to blackness and ashes.
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4 comments
I like that this piece doesn't end in one thing or another: does it take us to purity or darkness? I don't know; does anyone know?
The image you used with this piece totally affects the feel of it. I wouldn't have really felt as much chaos if it had been just black, or with no image at all
I saw the image than instantly was inspired an wrote this. it goes to the picture lol. Hunter S Thompson is one of my many idols