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The picture I had drawn, it's fading.

This darkness is getting denser.

I'm desperately fighting.

Reality has become a nightmare.

The dream has grown more vivid.

I'll disappear someday, just like my nights disappeared from my reality.

The things you had promised me have become a fallacy.

Still trying to draw you, but it's taking longer.

Does she still look the same?

How would I know that?
This poem explores the quiet collapse of memory, love, and clarity. Through fading images and growing darkness, it captures the emotional weight of loss, broken promises, and the desperate struggle to hold on to someone or something slipping away. It's a haunting reflection on how, sometimes, we lose sight—not just of others, but of ourselves.
Yesterday, I died in my dream.

I am still alive.

Does that make any difference?

What is my name?

Who am I?

Oh! I remember

Isn't it determinism?

Today I sleep well.

Tomorrow I will...

They don't need you.
2d · 21
The Truth
Truth needs no validation.

What is truth's aspiration?

I only know self-exploration.

Looking for the truth made invention.

I think I made it, but it's only inception.

We don't need creation; we need connection.

We committed for appreciation.

Sometimes it's good to have misconceptions.

This is an exception, not a conclusion.

It looks like everything's just an illusion.

Priests and principles taught me asceticism.

Now I realize it's self-deception.

It's not an inclination; it's a delusion.

We can't perceive this through perception

— The End —