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Something's in my head

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Discolored the lights to take me to this cave

Dark enough for a vision of an animating principle

Hot and bothered to encounter this soul slave
Never jogged my memory for verbalizing his name


Two beings, an existing visible one to whom talked the dead God
Memory so blurry that it goes undecided about the realness
Coherent if it were, wouldn’t we be sticking to a free rod
Picture so wintry that the most real scene goes undecided about the realness


Asked enough who throw him this job
Never wanted or asked for a wreck in chapter 13
If it wasn’t thrown, the whole structure is a flop
Freedom is never asked for, it is owned


Mourn and flaunt
As are the only extremes we are on
The other thing haunts
So is the courtesy to live on


The dead God soon realized the soul’s asleep
But something called the veins were awake
Our dead gods are subservient to structure framed by the breathing ones
Blind is the way for anyone to escape


One on another like a stack of fusion chain reaction
Them ideas are congruent to the hydrogen’s
But eyeless enough not to see the initiator
Spreading in all the directions like a spider’s web


Never really lived is just a mourn to be heard
Escapists, as they call them are just the cowards while themselves go with the flow
Desperate to satisfy we go unnoticeable
End in misery this happiness and gloom


But who knows what else this fakeness takes
The mourning continues and the rush to escape it consumes
One way or other all are doing the same
Our god is deeply hidden over the load of no escape power and man-made structure
Searching for the end he dies in the forest.

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