Lovely Lost Wonderer

A forgotten line on the lips of time
Words willingly waste away and washed out on the rug of reality
And let not listening be lost
For forgotten is not a favorable fate
To be bestowed by blank bodies, breathless beats
On a seemingly silly song sounding in my cerebrum
Dancing dreams deceive those who deviate from them

For fate is forgotten not on the faces of fire
But burn boldly before being brought belittled buckets of fate
Fame is but fatality
Lost is lucky
Lost on the lips of life

For the forgotten have freedoms
Not found by destined damsels and favorite fanned boys
Wings to weather wicked watery storms of unwise wishes
Stand, stand to stampede sickening storms
And stand in the sincere serenity
Of the soul saved of the sacrifice of fate

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