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There goes the alarm again.
The misanthropic crusader goes into shock,
I calm it down; comfort is mania.
Stare despondently into the void.
A chorus rises,
Violence, people trapped in time shout through metal,
A voice cries, confined, bounces from hall to wall,
I am not sure I woke up at all.
Some higher functioning brain activities
Get bored in their entropic state-
Trade places with whimsy,
Because that is what they do when they lose interest in their task,
As I have lost interest in my task,
And look for more chin music-
To raise a symphony within me.
To make one day look different to the last.
I wrote this a few months ago; It is about waking up.
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