Self-Deluded Brain
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I have tons of dreams amid the night's agony.
My optimism was tainted by despair.
Is there a cure to reignite passion?
Even anxiety found me sad.
The walls of the soul were silent.
The definition of wanting was inhibited.
And now I find myself at the ending of the hallway.
I am vigorously and repeatedly supervised.
Have faith in healing, waiting for relief.
We are puzzled by social visions.
The sharp focus is like a cloud.
The light on the Dark Ages.
Appears and vanishes.
Meaningless.
Stress.
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2021
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