Remnants of a disease,
a disorder of indecent natures,
an ailment coming to get me!
some unwholesome condition,
all smile on the outside,
however morbid inversely…
the interior soul,
a melody plays,
all too familiar one,
chasing down fear,
feeding the traps…
built into desire,
each heartfelt construct,
a malady,
the incurable constant.
such a wholesome poem i mean it everything was perfect
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