Rusted soul

We’re remnants of rust 

tenants of transitory happiness 

eroding over time 

we’re simply paralysed in flux.

Dissonance is a friend, 

under the mask of an enemy 

we look but we fail to see 

that time is just an illusion 

and time itself is the end.
We’re ruins of all we didn’t do 

of all the dreams we couldn’t paint

because the world deemed the best way grey 

and we couldn’t get our colours through
Conflicting inside, we hide 

under blue skies, masquerading

like an ocean sending big waves 

only to run away, from running

back to our lies.
Are these our lives?

Are these our lives?

A stranger unto ourselves 

A soul in disguise 

Are these our lives.


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