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I fear not my own devices, nor the qualities of my home.
I fear merely the possibilities of my imagination and the prospects of being alone.
fantasy is futile in a world of awe-struck rage.
I design for myself sympathy, living outside the cage.
if I stray too far I am lost, and society never lends me a hand.
life would be lovely if they would join me and cease living in a barren land.
I compete this world with compassion, they walk amongst me with derilect pose.
they moniter me so wisely, my eyes perpetually closed.
I have awoke before and I found myself in a fire, a hell unsurpassed.
but I laid myself down to sleep, hoping my imagination to last.





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