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Reality was my nightmare,
               dreams were my solace.

I was real within them.
Drown out the laughs with your own internal screams.
Now you wish for that undervalued state of oblivion.
I don't refuse
my sins,
I see the fog,
but my
body
goes
through
the simmer
before
the fire
of
weightlessly,
I have scars,
I don't deny,
I'm not
but trying
to be
sincere.
Not
faultless,
I see
the mafia
flashing
cameras
for
they control
this part
of town.

My old bones,
need a reset,
and calcium
or protein
drinks,
are not
the answer,
dying demons,
will answer
to business
corrupt deals.

Its no less
sadder
than
the
beating
of seals.
35.
The witch'in
in a winter
storm,
between
us,
we arn't happy
as the car dies,
due
to the winter
that seeps us.
Domestic abuse,
of waving
sickness
of verbal obtuse
and flagging,
the car's
now empty.
I carry
no flags,
and I'm
no handyman.
I saddle up
and cuddle you,
human warmth
so we can't
be frost
in the morning.
Angel grabbing, pulling at my soul
Yet, unbeknownst to her, I sold it years ago
With everything I say and
With everything I do
I try to be so right but
All I want to do is wrong
Slowly evanescing into flames of red
Into misty, hazy shades of blue
Descending into Hell
Forbidden from ascending into bliss
Cause why would I want to go up to Heaven
When everyone I know is going down to Devil’s Paradise
Inferno,
exponential flame
tearing at the world until
all that’s left is it’s name

from the dust and gravel
arise the youth
on revolutionary wings of
marble

only for the glorious resurgence
to become fallen angels
engulfing the world
that they had wished
to save in
earnest
I was afraid to wake up
just in case my heart gave out
when I realised the angels saved you before I could
Write me, you'll see
angels won't flee

pains, they endure
that is the key

Cherish our love
darling, I plea

please, you can set
both of us free

Always you'll be
Zywa for me
This a very short ghazal, each line is a trochee with an iamb

The characteristics of a ghazal are: 5 or more verses, all lines have the same metre, the end rhyme scheme is aa xa xa xa xa, and the poet's name is mentioned in the last line

Zywa (Polish) = alive, vivid

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