narrator
10-28-2002, 02:49 AM
The reverberation still spreading.
An echo in the process of ebbing.
The silence after stoutly endured.
Firm cold bitter the inner hate stirred.
Taking insight in our own merits.
A higher ground built through grief.
Is it the same? Can it be on that throne we sit?
Healing a fleeting thought. no help, no aid, no new leaf.
Pride in the damage is the insanity that plagues me.
Little steps downward the increments too small to see.
An explosion so brief and plain.
After the change we all feel the same.
Over Quick What I heard, is it true?
A self-infliction based on judgment.
A goal set and checked by the few and too few.
Yes it’s true. Every word, lie, and half-truth.
An echo in the process of ebbing.
The silence after stoutly endured.
Firm cold bitter the inner hate stirred.
Taking insight in our own merits.
A higher ground built through grief.
Is it the same? Can it be on that throne we sit?
Healing a fleeting thought. no help, no aid, no new leaf.
Pride in the damage is the insanity that plagues me.
Little steps downward the increments too small to see.
An explosion so brief and plain.
After the change we all feel the same.
Over Quick What I heard, is it true?
A self-infliction based on judgment.
A goal set and checked by the few and too few.
Yes it’s true. Every word, lie, and half-truth.