Noah Trist

October 2, 2003 - Melbourne
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Crimson fingers

Grabbed my fumes
Energy is scarce.
Nutrients, unacceptable
An ugly trance.

In blaring sounds , ears pop.
A haze I took, with hazy looks.
My sense undertook.

Could escort me
To a paradise in the sky?
You, a tiny giant
Reaching oh so high.
I want to hear
The secrets whispered low.
Rocks will gargle
Until they blow.

Just for a moment, I’ll
Flee to home.
Before I return
To the fantasy I roam.

With crimson fingers
I shed my disguise,
An upside tie
Like a bloody sunrise.

Now i know
How and why.
It wasn’t for
But I did fly.
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