Spread out clean sheets
Get the mind ready for the deep sleep
Fade out the cold lights
Still, these linens feel like concrete
Drifting though closed eyes
Watching incapacities materialize
Like in the song, a prisoner
Of my own device
Another part of me could have been the unleashed
What would it be, how would it feel
If the ideals of self were real?
Is it a cure, or is it disease?
Would i know emptiness from peace?
would
lights
ideals
emptiness
heartless
raptures
drifting
apart
black
clean
linens
dreams
could
sheets
angels
ravenous
device
breathless
another
concrete
forever
circling
materialize
watching
never
ashes
these
night
peace
ready
crossroads
closed
sleep
spread
start
still
fears
swirling
disease
though
tracing
scars
world
written
prisoner
undead
unleashed
where
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