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Sometimes, we're clustered
in black and white,
stuck in the stillness
of stagnancy
like grizzled cobwebs
on thawing walls
awaiting for the sunshine
in the middle of the night,
like hunters at sea
We are threading,
thorny roads and places
unaware of the blankness
that fills our soul,
like echoes from toinking ripple,
we are doused in cobwebs
dotted with fading inks
like memories of a million years
casted away like broken panes
Our lives are Victorian,
stuck in the mirage,
of Merlin the wizard
basking in broken ephitet
afraid of shattering the shard,
beyond the yarn
of the cobwebs
Sometimes,
we're like broken jar,
spilling rotten diamonds
conceived by our ignorance,
smeared by disdain
by this sinful world
but still in our Melee,
we're fighting to stay afloat
too behold this gnawing reality.