Lines

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Humans all think they're so unique

Building up meaningless identities

Drawing lines so wide, so deep

Making up words, spewing them foolishly


It's not as though I'm not the same

Even now, I've stolen someone else's words

And compiled them into pointless. Infinite. Garbage.


Eyes fogged by the pleasures of reality

Refusal to consider their own cruelties

The illusion of free will, the circles, the repeating cycle of nothing

The gears behind the clock will turn at the same speed forever


Whose fault is it exactly?

Would the prevention of a single existence really prevent the downfall of an entire world?

Maybe we're all to blame for this madness

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