Phantasy
- nicola
- Sep 12, 2018
- 1 min read
Night deepens as to deepen my insecurity, Beneath my shadow lies singularity. It's not illness but convalescence that makes me dream Flawed happiness resides within me one can forseen A masquerade party in the greatest dim my ego so wrung with whim. Now the morning seam glides in its brutal way sinking me in a sheer wanton gray - O, the phantasy is away.

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