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This WorldIn a land ruled by more then man,
Time is written with blood in sand.
Ages pass as powers rise and fall.
The scape erodes with waves eating wall.
There rest dreams from myth and tales,
Coveting history within it's cracks and swells.
A realm as this, perhaps lost by God,
Is preserved through the chronicling from this world of nod.
The StitchStitch escapes the skin
The infection lye within
Patience wearing thin
Pulls the string
Commits the sin
The deepest pointSeparated from myself and finding a deep-seeded anger for those that possess misconceptions about the going ons in my life...
Tormented by words and perceptions tossed upon me by strangers who hold no understanding of this turmoil...
I am once again forced into a state of discontent and self-shame, which is slowly being branded onto my mind...
This only perpetually pushes me closer and closer off the cliff which is my sanity, for once I begin to fall there will be no climbing back...
Forgoing the life envisioned, I quickly search for some place to anchor my line and hold fast to the rope...
Now gripping to the flakes of my reality in the
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More