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Writer's pictureMasterpiece In Progress

Feelings, fear, dread

Feelings, fear, dread, tightens in my chest.

I’m in pain, this pain, agony of having someone ripped, from the warmth of my reality, the vision of my today’s, the plans of my tomorrows.

This pain, this pain, the emptiness of nothingness, of hollowness, this pain. These are the feelings of fear and dread tightens my chest, wrapped like cords around the melancholy of my soul, cradle me like a baby cradles his mother breast.


I try to break free, I want to break free but the memories of the departed, capture my mind with a visual symphony of pain.

It’s the music I hear, it’s the music. Echoes of chords of tears, trebles of moans, and clefts of groans. This is not a song bird, this is not a Beethoven‘s symphony it’s the symphony of grief and I want to be free, I want to break free.

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