My Final Trick
It's overwhelmingly with sadness, a feeling of sick
That you thought you had control of me like magic
There's no gasoline covering me, put away the matchstick
The emptiness that possesses you is tragic
Your words are just a glass house, mine are the brick
Sails are at full mast, away from you preffering pelagic
I am no magician, but me disappearing will be my final trick
Copyright © Anonomus Scorpio | Year Posted 2023
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