I would tell, but you did not listen
when I already did ;
I care not to repeat it only to see
it being repeated
For the immense pressure
it makes us as we are
to gaze into the deepest
most dangerous parts
of our primal origins.
But you are known while I am not ;
It's only for poetry
but whom - not him - wrote it then- ?
You suspected, felt it,
but did not follow intution.
For you wanted comfort
more than the truth
but I understand - I too
yet it always evades
at the breaking point.
Do you fear, anxious of the reality
with the thirst for blood?
They cannot control it or medicate
the thought of it away,
so how do you sate, saviour it ?
I would tell, but you did not listen
when I already did ;
I care not to repeat it only to see
it being repeated
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