This is not a time to lost focus.
All my memories have holes, my apologies are frozen.
Lost in the zone of lost hope by motion.
Fire will cease at the thought of an ocean.
Clouded thoughts chosen.
So deep a sleep that I can't ever be woken.
Is this it?
The end of the road is a figurative end.
Off the road onto a path
That's not a path.
Laugh and Crash.
Snatched by tasks to get whiplash from broken glass.
Just to wake up and forget what you saw last.
In the past, I was an unspoken corrosive implosive explosion
Heated by the fire of lost words of coldness.
Sedated by my focus.
Lost quote to show this.
The decided position I cope like a poet,
Well placed thoughts to show the explosives.
It seems it's a cycle that won't be broken.
Am I the only one that sees that we're broken?
The past is dark, no light can show it,
but when you wake up I can promise you'll own it.
Setting the curve for unheard poets,
I love it. I loathe it.
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