Non-sense

Still not but harrowing be the breath
Still not still but my heart beats
I ache to find repose in death
Meanwhile attempting to believe.

Call privilege, vainly swoop abroad
Above sluggish shores of little gods.
Defeat the lineage of the beast
Which picks our bones from pleasing teeth.

Disregard interim fate. If you’re not you, why ever wait?

The world longs for Tragedy, for Grey tones turned Silver by romantic sludge.

 give her instead some Bravery. Let Quiet call the hush. 

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