<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581752" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Voluntary Oblivion</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Roaming free in voluntary oblivion<br>away from a life of imposed opinion. <br>There is not much to say, <br>but more to do. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let us eradicate races<br>and look deeper into people's faces. <br>The eyes speak <br>and the mouth dries up the tongue sometimes. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blindness creates worlds of words in rhymes<br>and once upon a time we had good times. <br>She sees images and experiences auditory hallucinations<br>she rummages to find the slightest inspiration.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was once a loss<br>a terrible and tragic loss. <br>A traumatizing, disturbing, and shocking loss. <br>There was once a loss<br>a loss for words. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was once a loss of all human emotion<br> there was once a destitution <br>of all responsive inclination. <br>There was once a loss <br>of the father of them all, imagination. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was once apathy <br>just as there once was telepathy. <br>There was once a time where eyes showed no desire<br>and there was only the faces all of them different<br>all of them tasteless ablaze and perspired.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pleasure is jaded and coiled up and driving about <br>the hallowed roads into insinuated profanity. <br>Heaven's illusion has taken us all down <br>to the mistress of mystery and insanity. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There could be oneness in the delusion. <br>There could be friendship in the intrusion.<br>There could be gaps<br>but all in all, it is really just a load of crap. <br>A trap disguised as an X on a treasure map. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">How lovely would it be to sleep on my lap<br> as the day drifts and the burden lifts? <br>Shoulders can only hold so much, <br>boulders can only be lifted by touch.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where is my muse and what happened to the way I used to write? <br>Where is my muse and what happened to enjoying those sleepless nights? <br>I'm not amused, and I thought of a fight - but you forgot that there was a loss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was once a terrible and tragic loss. <br>There was once apathy, <br>and I receive no more of your messages through telepathy. <br>I am not amused<br>and you are not my muse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Natasha+Hochar">Natasha Hochar</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=581752" data-title="Voluntary Oblivion de Natasha Hochar" data-description="Roaming free in voluntary oblivion away from a life of imposed opinion. There is not much to say, but more to do. Let us eradicate races and look deeper into people's faces. The eyes speak and the mouth dries up the tongue sometimes. Blind..."></div> </div> </div>

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