The world is flat And the screens Are full of small people All of the seconds seem to be More important than ever: We fuss about them I hear rumours about a war The same way I hear about my health: It seems unreal. I die every night. Like last night; I woke up today. And there is no love, that would do all this. The infinity writes itself all over. I just do not like the way it writes itself all over me. The rooms change, the planes switch, the doors elude. The tides decay. And we drown. The sigil we have been forced to emblazon upon ourselves.. It is tattood too deep somewhere. Where, we, thus Seek forever.
oletus
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