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responsibility
you have a responsibility; the ice melts if you cry. the candle dies if you melt. the die rolls crooked if you respond. our responsibility is what consumes us. aboriginal unequivocal gone
applied
properly applied, determination can be one's road to success. improperly applied, determination can crush one's spirits in a single blow. properly applied, mascara brings out the potency of a woman's eye improperly applied, mascara burns the retina and seeps into your brain when you cry.
sweep
the sweep of wonder across valleys rolling by the mortuary. sweetness in the bloom, and matrons on the wing. sweeping up the kitchen floor pretending all is well in the air.
barrel
there is a child on a barrel in the street. he sits, swinging his legs over the side, looking round the corner to the chariot men. it is a cold day, and no sun shines. there is a child on a barrel in the street he looks alright, but he can't feel a thing.
sure
i can find a way, to be sure, in any world but my own. somehow, it seems impossible that you could be this way. you've destroyed me. how can you be so sure? must it possess you to be anything but over? age is deterministic. forget everything.
shows
she has a deftness about her and it shows. she may try to hide what she does not wish to hear but it shows. and she knows that the petals of a red rose are strict in their finality. the king is wrapped in tinfoil and the queen is dressed to fail the servants all are quivering and it shows
now
now. the day is today, and the clock shall not wait any longer. now is the time for action. words have lost their voice. this is our time. we have grown strong once more. from weakness we have risen, like a phoenix from the ashes, and it is time for us to take back what is ours. right now.
game
a zephyr blew the game from st. neots to the land of the roving ones. there, they lived always in harmony, the game keeping them in check. back home in st. neots, rain pounded on the cobblestone. there was nothing quite like an english winter. rainy and drab. just like the rest of the year.
five
there are five pillars in the calcium desert. three stand before me now; i can see the sun behind the first, the moon behind the second, and a brief flash of light behind the third before i turn to fall between the lines of determination. i can slip once and topple over without much hassle these days
broadcast
i heard the broadcast on a saturday. the news of war broadcast in blood. i did not fall once. i fell twice. my second time corrupted me, and brought my mother to her knee, to ask the lord "i pray to thee: please save my son, please let him be!" you heard the broadcast on a sunday. it was rainy and i was long gone.
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