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OZYMANDIAS

Monday, September 16, 2013


 I MET a Traveler from an antique land,
    Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
    Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
    Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
    And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
    Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
    Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
    The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
    And on the pedestal these words appear:
    "My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
    Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
    No thing beside remains. Round the decay
    Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
    The lone and level sands stretch far away.

A poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley



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posted by Primessa Espiritu
12:46 am



Note To October

Tuesday, September 10, 2013


It's too easy to forget
how hope pumps up the chest
how it makes my skin reflect
on stars your eyes are set

we dance out of place
why would we skip our turn

The branch forgets the fall
when hope pumps up the sap
when a green mistake is made
little bumps in the bark

we dance out of place
why would we skip our turn

It's so easy to forget
how pain plumps up the mouth
how it shakes your hand in fear
words ringing in my ears

we learn
we dance out of place
we dance out of shape
taking chances
making haste
why would we skip our turn

It'll be easy to forget
how hope pumps up the chest
how it makes your skin reflect
on stars my eyes are set


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posted by Primessa Espiritu
1:11 am

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