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Writing Crimson Trust [PG]


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Alone in splendor, alone in shame.
This love I have wrought can end my pain.
Inside this hell of self created lusts,
I find my mind is about to bust.
Given in, and given trust;
even in this life I'm at a loss of lust.
Happiness gone, life is wrong,
trouble always brewing even in song.
The woman I sought is the woman I bought.
Out on the street in the parking lot.
The world's oldest profession,
my death in succession hatred unfettered,
and unconscience in a collision by a scarlet letter.
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I'm afraid I didn't quite like this one. The general feel of the poem escaped me. I don't like how you used lust in two rhymes and the line 'trouble always brewing, even in song' seemed sort of cheesy. At the end, you destroyed both the rhyme scheme and the rhythm entirely through abuse of exaggerated vocabulary. In the end I'd have to say this is my least favorite of all your work.
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