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No Rage

My poetic soul dreams to go
quietly and consciously;
but annulation haunts me

In my mind I believe
I have found bedrock;
but the fear lingers on.

When the last breath is near
will I die in my fashion,
will I gently let go;

shall there be faith to hold,
when it is time to return
that first breath taken?

Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content


this is so beautifully dignified! I agree with Teddy's comment.

always, Cat

When someone reads your work
And responds, please be courteous
And reply in kind, thanks.

Hello tyro, beautiful written lamment and questionning. We have no answers to those questions, except to hope we go peacefully in our sleep.
I think the title, content and spacing are fine. No nits, best, Gracy

"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

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