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The UrgeThe urge to do a thousand things,
though none of them should help.
The drive to sprint and climb tall hills,
I lay here in the dust.
Ha, "If only," I mutter while
I do speak strictly of lust.
Though it's past
and far too late.
My spirit cries
and heart laments
the past I tried to leave.
My body weak and soul gives way
to things best left undisturbed.
I cry I do,
for things which pass unseen.
The silent death does make me weep,
at least inside I mean.
Degradation and curses
are the only suitable words.
That Hell would consume me
and turn me to rubble,
my thought turn against.
A thousand thoughts consume my mind,
a stage I'm not allowed to walk.
For I know that's all it is,
I wish for the real,
I wish for the loving embrace of my Lord.
All ideals fly away in awe
of this one love.
The one who's asked me to stay.
I sit upon his pillow gleeful in his company,
yet I draw myself away.
Away from the comfort and security of my Lord.
I seek the
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More