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A liquid hymn to a God before me,
Striking a deep cord of reverence within me.
Pulling my belief from my stomach,
Taking my libation to satisfy His hunger.
I believe with a strength generally reserved for fanatics.
A strength that makes it possible and logical
To sing my molten song until my throat is raw,
Until my eyes are purple with broken blood vessels,
Until my finger is red with teeth and acid.
And then my Hail Porcelains are over.
My Mass has ended, I can leave this sacred room.
- by EuphoricUnderworld |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 05/10/2009 |
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- Title: Bulimic Mass
- Artist: EuphoricUnderworld
- Description: This is a poem I wrote after a particularly low spot in my ongoing recovery.
- Date: 05/10/2009
- Tags: bulmic mass
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Comments (4 Comments)
- kiwijian_01 - 12/08/2009
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whoa that was amazing....totaly agree witht the other guys....pictures in ma mind....5/5
p.s. im sorry you had to go through such an experience... - Report As Spam
- EuphoricUnderworld - 07/01/2009
- It was a personal experience. I wrote this after I got out of the hospital.
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- the tentacles - 05/19/2009
- I agree with Faebel217 you painted a picture in my mind too... biggrin
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- Faebel217 - 05/11/2009
- I love how you painted a picture with this poem with the use of colorful, descriptive, and powerful words. I take it this was influenced by a particular experience in your life?
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