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I’m my own
torturer, and
at a disadvantage
against him….

Life covers me in
silks and brambles
      laced with narcotic
     thorns
High on life,
    but is it the drug I
Crave?

Sex is always good
   because it pens me
to a reality I find
false
And without soul is only
a physical act.

Wealth surrounds me,
    though I’m poor.

Compared to someone
else I’m wealthy.
And some are far wealthier.

But are any of us happy or
wise, would we trade each
   others lives.

Wealth becomes irrelevant
   When there is no faith in
   The reality it exist in.

I am Walking Away….

©2015

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