Apparition,
depise m3.
Always clinging onto
Dissonance.
It wasn't my fault.
The stresses stresses on
And nothing like it
Could ever begone.
It tears me.
You ever rip apart
The flesh of metaphoric
Truth?
Ofcourse not.
It belongs subjective.
Parallel and defiant.
It belongs to no one.
This continues onward.
It discontinues.
