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Twisted Confessions

The world’s moving so fast, how these eyes can’t even catch a glimpse.
The hands feel broken, but I wish I could somehow hold them in.
I whisper and ask for a clarity amidst the spinning wheels,
but those cold winds mocked, the moment I stopped being still.

Something adheres the surface of my consciousness.
Realizations of a far off dream that appeared to come close.
That I keep failing to justify the purpose of me existing,
To the little demons that keep feeding on my heart and soul.

So when I find myself a dirt in this polished world,
holding no strength in this survival of the fittest.
I choose to seek sympathy in disguise of people’s acceptance,
and I keep chanting for them, ‘This world is the prettiest!’

If pretty defines swiping the dirt off these grounds,
I’ve got to play a solid stone so these winds won’t spit me out.
But I know this heart I carry shall tear me apart in pieces,
The moment some heartless words try to encircle me around.

And in fear I see the truths the future is about to show.
The little strengths I fake around, shall be a naked sentence.
The world shall breed in more ruthless demons in me.
And the darkness shall prey on this very purposeless existence.


Hence I couldn’t help but shout to the infinite,
how insanely I’ve been deprived of those longer breaths.
That I’ve kept fighting those demons that aren’t so little,
I keep seeing them playing along with my life and my death! 

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