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"The Melting Clocks" by Lucklost

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Infected Decay.
Rotting Ecstasy
of Garbage.
Rabid and hunting with lies
and tears of Yester-Year.
I lie in the radiant rays
of this obsidian sun,
soaking up the toxic
disease cast upon
our future. Innocence
ruined forever when virgin
eyes see the dissolving
Flesh from our faces, bubbling
over with unforgiving
blister, spitting out the
love secretions into air like
fountains of the royal.
Burns melting our faces
like Dali's clocks in the desert,
changing the way we look at
ourselves. Fun Room mirrors
surround us it seems, morphing
us, but in reality. Fingers twisting
like the twizlers you place into your
bacteria infested mouths.
Chins to the rodent infested grounds,
rubbing off into the sewers of our demise.



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On Wednesday March 29th, 2006, damascus (136) writes:
this is a very complex poem..... so mysterious, yet at the same time you think you know what it means..... I love it..... nice write



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