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Why do I read, read between the lines

Create the ideal

Interpret

What's not there

Time has passed, no sights have changed

Misplaced pattern, rearrange

The light, the end

Mirage past, the moment is gone

I slip, fear grips

I fall back

Time has past, no skies have changed

Misplaced patterns, rearrange

Will this be

My last point of reference

Go black

My will

Put to rest

In darkness descend

With a loss of control

The next step is clear

Suppressing what used to me

I turn away