I sit here in my own realm
Surrounded by global hate
Compassion
Contributing not so long ago
To the cycle
Hate
Drawn from compassion
Careless and controlled
Burning
With a white hot desire
To let all I know
Go
Free falling
Into a cyclone
Of twists and plots
That have always been
Will always be
Fictional temptations
Non-fictional story lines passed
A memoir of a lifetime
That once existed
Wanting to break free
From this novel I wish was not my own
Fact:
Sooner or later
All my troubles will end
With an exhale
Question:
Will I survive?
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