The Noise (productofnoise) wrote,
The Noise

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Believe Me....

'Wanting you to reach out from the dark.... to wake up from the cold....
Wanting you is all I can do.... things you never say....'

It occurs to me that the living have a morbid fascination with the dead..... It also occurs to me that most of us walk around presuming that we are alive. What irony???
We are.... zombies.
We are.... the perpetual dead.
We are.... ghosts???
I seem to have some vague realization that I once had a life.... but now it seems like I was only becoming. I've forced myself into a false reality.... a dream life.
I am.... alone.
I am.... one against all.
I am.... otherwise alive???
The sky melts from cloudless blue to perilous black. Your voice echoes through these hollow halls. Your prayers are whispered as the shades fall.
Nights like these....
Nights like every other....
Nights like no other....
Believe me.... the stars never looked more beautiful.
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