Drowning in purposelessness

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For I lay my life as a toast,
to a deep deathful slumber.
For no passion ignites my heart,
and no art seem worthwhile.
For no dream seem worth chasing,
and no beauty well defined.

#PROJECT2014: A POST A MONTH (April) : Even dreamers might end on a bitter note

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She was optimism

And I was the kind of pessimism,

That was acid on hope.

In being friends, I saw

the potential of a convert

But in her impatience

she saw eternal bondage.