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Strings
I do not wish to lie to you
I should not like to cause you any unnecessary surprise
I only shower you with promise unknowingly
Of a thing inconceivable by your largely unyielding spirit
But rather brought to life by our forlorn ghosts dancing in half-painted shadows
Should I enjoy your presence twice? Quite.
Exceedingly so, hence why the wanderings of my mind should be confined to a vacant space with haste
The second to span out a lifetime
Not to lose consciousness before the birth of opportunity and chance
I live entrapped within the boundaries of imagined memory and some deformed reality
My beast that escapes instruction
A hound, a freak, my disappointment
A virtue so confused it ceases to retain neither its purity nor its independence
I demand a cure;
A prescription issued by a lonesome doctor
To stand on the bridge of welcome meeting with regret
To look down not on finance, not on age
To avoid eye contact altogether
Among a massacre of holy beckoning
I pray, and you condemn
My existence to worse than fire:
You leave me stranded on soil