My head is the bay for the ship of dreams
The archaic thoughts that stick with me
Crawl back in fear, as actions dissemble
Losing the person that time will embezzle
My heart the fire, my brain the charcoal
They both disseminate the last of my soul
If time could repair what it's destroyed
Life itself may not persecute my joy
These urbane people surround me
And happily glance at what they can't see
They embrace change, no equivocal vision
But fantasize conformity, the easiest decision
I keep my distance like a feral beast
And see my life as lucid as lucid couldn't be
My mind stayed from pretension, although what's left
Longs for quiet happiness, not subject to being abject
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