Thursday, October 15, 2015

I'll breathe again

The thing about life is,
So I discovered,
That the cure for the poison,
Lays within te decease,
The truth lays within the lies,
Even strengt or over coming,
Lays within the fear,
Fear of rejection, of imperfection,
Even the fear of the unknown,
It's all in the things,
That hurt us most,
Where lays our salvation as well,
In the moments that break us,
Into infinte pieces,
Says not solely that we are broken,
It whispers that there are,
Infinite ways to try and puzzle,
Who we want to be,
We can not be broken,
For we can not be whole either,
How can someone that has not yet,
Lived their entire life yet,
Be whole? It's not possible,
For you had not lived a whole life,
We are all uncompleted messes,
Within that lays that there is not a soul,
To succeed or to fail,
For we are all just passing trough,
Without ever finishing,
Until we'll be born again.

Collapse, crumble, this is not your destruction,
This is your birth. 























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