By Rhea   

But, alas! My mind has never set
Fond of chaos, thrashing
It insists to never rest
Just like oceans' waves it's crashing.

Upon my stool, I sit
Pen in hand, paper set
I wish to write my sorrows
And that we never met

It tortures me through the night
For now my thoughts can't leave my brain
I am running out of light
And I cannot write my pain

My soul craves to be free
Without this sense of dread
But the dark abyss consumes me
And traps me in my head.

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