It's all been said before
I've wrung all the emotions out before
used them til they bled ink and then nothing
But in the dead of night when the only heartbeat I hear is my own the call begins
Slow and long, it drones like a moaning wind from far off I do not recognize it but it does not leave until it has been named
I could be typing for hours it's been done before I've been there before an endless refrain emptying myself, only to be filled again and again
but they feel that way, the expressions long and drawn out, old and worn
this is when I ask my God is this tool no longer of use and He answers by filling my cup
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Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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