Unironically uninspired,
I drift through the grey,
Floating through hours,
A lone leaf on still water,
Away from my life source,
Insignificant and yet common,
Waiting for the storm.
There’s no fire in my chest,
No spark, no fight,
Just the dull hum of existence,
A clock ticking in a quiet room.
I breathe in the ordinary,
Exhale the mundane.
But then –
the crash,
the crack in the sky,
the...
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