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The mind is never quite serene,
When thoughts embellish every fiend.
Then conscience views the sanity bleak,
At which begins realities leak.
Which turns a dream into a nightmare.
To know that what was felt was not there.
The mind is nothing but a jail,
Where love and hate make up the hell.
The thoughts of yesterdays relapse,
Give meaning to Life,
Today's collapse.

— The End —