Run away and hide, girl,
Reality’s askew
And when you lost your pride, girl,
Trouble found you
Someday you‘ll reach Neptune, dear
Someday you’ll touch the stars
But what becomes of this usurped fear?
That lives beneath your scars
I’d like to see you on a laughing spree,
Mouth gaping like an open funnel
That’s when it will occur to me,
That it’s an evil, laughing tunnel
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- suraj sharma
- my mind, therefore, becomes this outstretched field of immeasurable serenity, which, although illuminated at angles awkward and unfamiliar to my eyes - is neither dark nor twilit. The strange lighting turns the vacuous foreplay of shadows chasing shadows into an euphoric, almost utopian feeling which is held in suspension as long as this configuration of appearances beckons the restlessness of reason ever forward into the uncharted hinterlands of imagination while at the same time compelling me to bless the lighting director.
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