Blood fed flower, beautiful yet so sour,
To wander with countless hours,
The sun rising spills grief with its rays,
There’s always darkness to show the way.

It’s hunger that opened my eyes to reality,
Indulgence in my desires and limited abilities,
This is perpetual, never ending,
Our freedom, we each our own gods of emptiness.

Mocking reality with the unfathomable perfect,
Nothing experienced or spoken is such a word,
Life itself, is the only gift given,
To hold truth in my arms, not perfection, is my happiness.

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