Lost in a field of hedonistic wet dreams,
I'm perpetually stuck in sepia.
I could not care for the scum that surrounds me.
Who are they?
Why are they here?
Who am I?
Why am I here?
Serenity is nigh,
your hand in mine.
A troubled minstrel sang our serenade.
Lost in a sea of self-loathing
we found each other,
two souls that sailed adrift.
Lost and never to be found.
Mannequins of human beings.
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