April 1, 2018
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I envision dreams
that I can’t chase;
an atrocious void
I’ve learnt to embrace.

My longing stoic soul
has grown frail.
Is it a mere misfortune,
or am I bound to fail ?

“Grow fearless”,
My angels mutter.
Albeit my devils shriek:
“Adhere to the clutter”.

I’m clueless;
For my thoughts
run wild and scattered,
as if nothing mattered.

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