The Inner Machinations of My Mind Are an Enigma
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I look to the woods and
See only the dead trees
Though i know there's so much
Life in that treeline
An arid landscape, beset by blooming flowers
A mirage is forming
And we are drowning in it
As one being
As one heart
You're right there but i'm so cold
Intertwined like laces sewn
I can't sleep; i can't even dream anymore
A new ghost i can call home.