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My state of mind is blurred
in solace and worry
disturbing thought is flourished
and the night costs my life, because
If everyone could understand my cerebral flaw,
then the picture I present would cease to be blotched,
and the life I lead would be a divine song.
But incoherence taunts.
Understanding is at a never ending loss.
Water is my elemental stand, according to the
annexes of my transcendental core
before I breathe life, every action is recorded,
So in acknowledging the interactions between you and I, I realize that my life is a karmic chore, and no one can help me.
Only by my own reflection can I be seen.
Emotion is a chain addiction, and the picture I present is a f***ing contradiction to the people in my circumference outside, and peering in.
And now you mock my drunken impotence.