The only thing final is the fantasy we live in our minds.
Nothing is real in a world made with every lie we’ve sworn by.
So,
I keep my head in the clouds fighting for another day before I’m caught in the same vices,
Crushing my spirits and waning hopes of living strifeless.
No more smoke surrounding a vessel wounded by its silence,
Halting the magic pouring from my pen’s stride in riveting thought of another line printed with strong feelings I can no longer hold back while I’m writing…
Spilling One’s Gut 3 – Before The Flood Gates Open…

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