Lifeless Art
I pause and start again
often prodigal they judge
I pause and refresh my senses
often motivations are bleak and carcass like sermons
I become redundant in my own realm
and starving at every inch of my own self breath
relentlessly trying in utter agony
just like a barren womb
with doomed felicity often tangled in those narcissistic motifs.
Despair - only if hope existed.
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