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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The Senescence Of A Mandots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: HisNameIsNoMore
    ASL Info:    28 - Male - Ohio
    Elite Ratio:    3.08 - 75/182/217
    Words: 329
    Class/Type: Poetry/Dark
    Total Views: 613
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2031



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe Senescence Of A Mandots
    -------------------------------------------


    In silence does one really degrade into nothingness?
    Does the expansive darkness of the universe hold the key to eternal peace?
    A restless soul dreams of a somber sleep, a withering man becomes statuesque as he speaks.
    I am what I am, degrading from a lack of need.
    What is one to do when the entire world has moved on but you?
    Flipping through photographs that don't exist, as if your entire existence was forgotten.
    A Renaissance will never occur until one is truly wanted.
    Morose smiles adore the faces of loved ones, crass with a failed humor, senses fail and hands close, pulling away.

    The senescence of a man.
    A life that bore no meaning until his end.
    The quintessence that fabricates what mends.
    A life that has opened your eyes once again.
    The senescence of a man, he gave all he had until he was nothing but a friend.

    A reflecting pool, a mirror into the soul.
    Toss a stone, skip it across everything you've come to see so slow.
    Prosopagnosia, I know.
    Somewhere I search for that smile despite forever remaining unknown.
    Please remain still as I vanish, yet my voice despite it's failing rasp with always stay, just a moment more would save my restless soul today.
    Please wait for me, I am trying to just be at peace.
    Degrading slowly.

    An epic struggle to keep ones self from collapsing from with in.
    The senescence of a man the flesh is weak where he sins.
    Oh the tragic senescence, after all we've fought for it all fails us in the end.

    Gray stones, wood that bows, a ribbon or a rose.
    A spritz of water, a solemn grace said at an alter.
    Respect or love, perhaps an unknown.

    I have fallen apart somewhere along the way.
    Senescence, I'm growing old.
    Much to tired to continue down this forsaken road.
    I have shared all I have shown, tomorrow I will go.




    Submitted on 2010-03-17 20:04:52     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    Rate This Submission

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    ||| Comments |||
      I was really not sure what you were talking about,
    that was never clear to me. If it was the death of
    a loved one i totally relate.
    It just seemed wierd to me, but it just my opinion.
    keep writing, i hope to see more from you.
    | Posted on 2010-03-18 00:00:00 | by mistiekidd | [ Reply to This ]


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