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Can I find a cure to end the madness? To let peace reign in the sanctuary Of my soul is but a dream that May never see reality. I dwell and Ponder the limits of my being, only To find myself stuck in this Dreary version of life. Am I alive? Enduring is definitely A good choice of phrasing. Animated In the sense that I live, but I Am only too close to the inanimate; A mere husk of flesh performing Prescribed motions that were given As instruction without choice. The minutes tick by and the dread Remains my chambermaid; ever attentive, Close at hand to serve, but quiet and In the background, peripherally forgotten. Despair terrorizes me to the glee of the Fear that shackles me. Together they produce Doubt, a choking weed that suffocates. So I continue without another option To satisfy me or those around me. They Are reasons that leak the holding water. Even my quest for completion loses its Ground, despite the tranquillity I find In that reflection. I continue to Endure, hoping for a better day. |
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