Fog

Every day is like a gift
because everyday is but a dream
a foggy haze yet crystal clear
drowning under static stream

reaching out or stretching thin
subtle tingle of life within
this dichotomy of beating hearts
bleeding softly breeding thoughts

thinking back eternally
listening quite carefully
but casually it all goes wrong
out of tune, just another song

we sing-along not knowing why
inventing lies of passers-by
infecting their allusions of
delusional illusions and trust

illuminating the way of the future me
setting fire to life, climbing the tree
distant beat pausing underneath
for a just a moment the end is redeemed

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